That One Summer
by Allumettes
Summary: Forced to take on several jobs over the holiday, Naruto finds himslf mowing the lawn of this snobby rich boy who can't keep his hands to himself. There is more than meets the eye though, some of it so raw you can't bear to see it on the surface. Sasunaru.
1. Chapter 1

**That One Summer**

_Chapter 1_

_--_

Maybe it's the heat that makes things happen the way they do, though Naruto wouldn't be comfortable looking for excuses and explanations. Things probably just happen because they have to, some time. If you keep filling a bucket with water in your living room, the room's going to flood. This summer will be just like that. What'll happen is an accumulation of feelings, actions, mistakes and good choices, and in any way, it's inevitable.

Naruto's seventeen, has just graduated, with difficulty. He was never a brainy type, or organised, so naturally, his academic life is a joke. To be honest, he doesn't know what they were fretting about in high school. It had already been decided he would not go to university, even if he had turned out to be the next Stephen Hawking, he didn't have the money. Still doesn't, but now the situation's different.

So Naruto has one entire summer of being on his own, before he will move out of his current apartment, and in with his fat uncle B. who owns a garage. Thing is, his uncle has thoroughly explained to him that he is no social worker, and that he really can't be bothered with taking care of his nephew, so he'll offer him the spare room, but Naruto has to pay for it. He charges him what he thinks is a friendly bargain. Now Naruto is stuck, forced to accept his offer (he has nowhere else to go) and all summer to come up with the money for the room.

Naruto supposes he should feel grateful. It's true that uncle B. is one of the least shady relatives he knows, and the only one who has even offered to help him. But he feels empty and hopeless, with the only prospect of becoming a mechanic in training next year. That or his uncle's poorly paid child labourer.

Anyway, Naruto doesn't like to beat around the bush, so here's what happens that summer.

He manages to find several jobs for the summer:

He works at a theme park every Friday and Saturday catching a ride from this boy who lives in the same apartment block as he. It's either costume work, (which he loves unlike everybody else in the park, so he gets a lot of time to spend in the huge, stuffy head of the park mascot, an orange duck) or hauling boxes from this side to that side of the park without actually knowing for what for, and having popcorn for lunch.

He also works Sunday mornings in a bakery with his best friend Sakura which meant getting up at five, pulling on some clothes in the dark, emptying a carton of chocolate milk and getting on his bike to ride the seven blocks that lay between his apartment and the bakery. He likes the way the streets are deserted in the early morning, and he witnesses a lot of misty, pale city sunrises.

Then, every school day he baby-sits his neighbour's hyperactive son called Konohamaru for the meagre cash, if any. Konohamaru's mother works two jobs and comes back after nine, so she likes him to cook for her little boy and help him with homework if he'd be so kind. That's OK. Naruto likes the kid well enough, and he would probably continue to baby-sit him for free, just because he knows what hard work is like and he respects Konohamaru's mother for her independence. She always gives him something, even if she doesn't have any money on her at the moment. She gives him left-over stew or soup, or sensible stuff he always forgets to buy like band aids and cough syrup.

Naruto suspects she feels sorry for him because he doesn't have a mother, or a father, but he also knows that she respects him in the same way that he does her, for his hard work and inability to give up, or go down. He's tough, like her.

That leaves Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday free for one more job, Naruto figures as he stands over his kitchen table, looking pensively at the mess that is his apartment. He remembers an ad in the supermarket, (one where he applied for a job he didn't get) that said: "looking for help in managing garden Monday, Tuesday and Thursday." Naruto likes working outdoors, prefers it to selling popcorn, or beeping products at the register in the supermarket. So he stands up and searched the pockets of his grubby orange coat for the telephone number he tore off the ad. He finds it and straightens out the wrinkly piece of paper, and goes looking for the phone.

When he finds it, he holds the cold plastic against his cheek and allows his eyes to slide over the interior of his tiny living room. Cream-coloured walls, corner kitchen, three tiny cupboards for keeping cups and plates. He doesn't have a couch, but he has a nice white carpet he keeps it as clean as he can. That's where he sits and reads his library books and comics and free newspapers because he has no TV, and isn't really aware of what he's missing. Then, to his left if he's standing with his back to the hallway, there is the door to the bedroom, except there's no door because he broke it when he smacked it to hard in an angry teenage fit, and he has no money to get it fixed. So now there's only a hole to the other room, which is alright with Naruto. He lives alone and doesn't really need a door.

Suddenly there's a dial tone and Naruto startled as he heard a woman's voice answer in a curt manner.

'Yes, who is this?'

'Hello. I'm calling for the ad. The gardening job?'

There's a silence for a little while, as if the woman has forgotten about putting up the ad in the first place, but then she draws a breath and says:

'O, of course. Yes, do you know the address?'

Naruto tells her that he doesn't and she tells him to get a piece of paper so he can write down what she's going to say. It's in an area outside of town, in the upper-class neighbourhood, where Naruto has never been before. He thinks about how long it's going to take him and if there's even a bus that goes there.

'Do you have any experience?' She asks him, suddenly.

He stammers and starts to tell her about the other jobs he took for the summer. She cuts short his monologue.

'Yes, well, it isn't a particularly difficult job, just things around the house, you know. Why don't you come over next Monday and I'll show you around.'

He thanks her politely and frowns a little at how easy it went. He couldn't have been the only one to call, right? He shrugs and drops down on his stomach on his carpet, cheek on the coarse fabric, eyes on the hole to his bedroom.

The bedroom is small and white, but it looks large because Naruto lives in his living room mainly, and hasn't really decorated his bedroom. He never really takes anybody, least of all to his bedroom. There's one window that allows in cold, golden light in the morning, but stays dark in the afternoon. He sleeps in the same low, metal frame bed that he has slept in since he was five. It's getting a little too small for him, but serves its purpose just as well, so there's no need replacing it.

Naruto has been poor all his life, although you'd never hear him say it like that. To him, poor is out on the street with nothing but the clothes on your back and your misery. He has a place he calls home, works his ass off every day to afford it, but at least he can go back there in the evenings and crash on his bed to sleep deep and peacefully.

Everything has been all right. But this year he'll turn eighteen, and he'll stop receiving money from the government. His parents died when he was very young, and he spent a lot of his time in foster care, or worse, orphanages. When he was sixteen, social services had never had any trouble with him and gave him the choice to live by himself in an apartment or keep living in foster care. Naruto chose the first option and, granted, he would have to keep his grades up and someone would check up on him occasionally, but he was more or less free. And freedom, is one of the things he regards as most valuable. If you live your life in a cage, you might as well be dead.

--

The next Monday, he's mapped out route the bus will take on an old map of the city he bought for almost nothing and he has brought it with him in his pocket, but as he sits in the bus, sweating in the leather seats, he doubts if it will come to any use. The high buildings and shops and trees that pass him are all the same, and everything is like a maze, twisting and winding endlessly. It's not clear and straight, and divided up into blocks like in the city. He gets off at one of the last stops. Forty-five minutes in the bus. There are a couple of other kids too. Two girls and a boy, dressed in the height of fashion, all beads and jewellery smelling like hair gel and eau de cologne.

He walks slow and allows them to overtake him so that he can lag behind. He doesn't really feel comfortable walking with them. Self-conscious of his own shabby appearance: cargo pants and a grey shirt, already wet with his sweat; It's hot, too hot for summer and horribly humid so that Naruto has trouble breathing.

He manages to navigate his way through the broad white streets, deserted but for the BMW or Mercedes that comes screeching by now and then. The houses on both sides seem to grow bigger and more extravagant as he climbs the hill. He's beginning to wonder was sort of house Mulberry drive 56 will look like, when he gets to the top of the hill and sees the real deal right in front of his eyes. Huge, pearly white in the blazing sunlight with the deep azure blue of the ocean behind it. The sort of house you would imagine to live in, if you just won the lottery, twice.

Naruto wipes his sweaty hands on his shirt and presses an insecure finger to the doorbell. He hears a little zoom and afterwards everything is quiet for so long that he thinks he has the wrong address. But the speakers come to life at last and he hears the same voice he heard on the telephone the other day.

'Yes?'

'Um, I'm here for the garden. Uh.. The job?' He stammers.

Like before, there is a long pause, and Naruto is beginning to think this woman must be doing it on purpose when the gate clicks open and he is allowed entry to paradise. He feels like something impure and sinful, entering this white and sparkling Eden.

The front door opens up and he sees what he supposes is the owner of that voice and the one who keeps abusing simple pauses. She is tall and thin, with a hard, white face and black eyes that fix you and hold you in your place. But there's was also something restless about her and as she approached her eyes wander this way and that and regard him with little interest. She doesn't shake his hand, but then again, he doesn't offer and they stand a little awkward opposite each other. Then, it seems, the woman remembers who she's talking to and introduces herself.

'My name is Mrs. Uchiha. If you will follow me please.'

She strides ahead of him, over the green lawn, not to the front door but to the side of the house. There is a path and it leads slightly down the grassy slope. Naruto looked around him in awe. The garden is huge, and behind the house it stretched a lot further, something like a golf course. There is a Japanese garden, a pond, several trees including apple trees and a palm tree and other fancy, imported ones that Naruto can't recognize. When he turns around he sees the house in front of him, all glass and designer architecture, looking out over the magnificent view of the bay and the ocean beyond that. In front of the house is a swimming pool, surrounded by warm, red stones.

Mrs. Uchiha sees him look.

'You will be expected to tend to the garden. I want you to cut the grass, at least for this week, clean the pool, trim the shrubs to your right, they are my roses so please be careful. You can also clean out the garden house, clean the windows and just sweep it out a bit. And the fence actually needs to be repainted, which will take up the most time. I think about three weeks will do, if you come and work about five hours. I would like you to come in the mornings. In the afternoon I like to entertain friends in the garden, and I don't want anyone walking in the way. Also, if you've been in the garden, don't go into the house in muddy shoes and all that.'

Naruto nods and tries not to feel belittled as she goes on.

'That's about it I guess. I think about six an hour will do, don't you think?' She's not really asking for his opinion and just continues her rant. 'You can start today. You'll find tools in the shed over there. If you have any questions, I'm in my office most of the time, but I don't like to be disturbed. So...well, I don't think there'll be any questions.'

Then she looks at him with a look that dares him to contradict her, just for the sake of argument, but he just nods and smiles a dumb little smile that he hopes will assure her of his quiet, stupid composure and capability in managing the grass.

She seems convinced and nods curtly. Then she turns around and disappears through the large, white double doors into the house and he's left alone in the heat and the light of the summer stinging his eyes. He sighs deeply and raises his eyebrows to his hairline. What a job he has managed to secure! Hard labour in the pressing heat, for money that he'd earn just as easily copying files in some office in the city.

He plucks at his shirt to allow some air between the fabric and his hot skin. He closed his eyes for a second, the world bright red behind his eyes lids, and enjoys the silence that is never there in the city. No cars, no stereo, no sirens. This place is a little paradise. Only he's not able to enjoy it, just manage it. Ah, well. He shrugs again and makes for the shed. Might as well make he best of it.

--

He decides to start on the lawn, because he finds the lawnmower rather quick, falls over it actually. The door falls closed behind him and he bumps his leg hard against the machine. He swears for a full minute, hopping around on his uninjured leg, before stumbling back and pushing the heavy wooden door open again. This time he inspects the room and tugs at the lawnmower to loosen it from the pile of junk that it seems to have melted into.

It's just a manual one, Naruto concludes after having looked at it in the daylight. Too bad. Although he has no garden of his own, he mowed the lawn often enough when he was in foster care. More often than he liked as to some of the families he was less of a son, and more of a slave.

The grassy slope is nice and smooth. The grass is too long, but there are no pebbles or branches in the way. He works undisturbed until eleven. That's when he straightens his back and hears the clicking sound his spine makes in protest. The sweat has dampened his hair and he wipes it out of his face, where it sticks on his head, as if he had just taken a shower.

He's at the right side of the house, looking down on the pool which is a great, shimmering, blue rectangle in its bed of warm, red tiles. Then the door slides open. Though it's made out of glass, Naruto couldn't have seen through it because of the reflection, and now he's startled. He quickly ducks and hides under the shadows of a nearby tree, lugging the awkward, heavy lawnmower behind him.

The figure is isn't wearing any shirt or shoes, is just dressed in shorts. He strides out of the doorway and leaves it open, making his way to the pool. There's something in the way he moves, languid and self-assured, but also angry. Naruto gawps. The boy has black hair, must be Mrs. Uchiha's son, though he's not sure because she didn't tell him anything about a son.

In front of the pool, Naruto can see only his back, muscled but sleek. Then the boy turns his head a fraction and looks out over the bay. The sun in his face. He looks angry. There's a scowl on his pale lips, something wistful in his face.

Suddenly, he tears away his gaze and jumps off (Naruto can't suppress a gasp) into the pool. He dives into the water with the effortlessness of someone who never feared water and probably learned to swim when he was five. He's graceful and athletic and he disappears under the water, to be only a dark shape in the blue, almost until he reaches the other side of the pool, where he resurfaces.

Naruto can't tear his eyes away and he's very hot, only he knows that has very little to do with the weather right now.

--

It's evening and he's been sweating all day. The temperature will keep getting higher. It's a genuine heat wave, they said on television. Sasuke doesn't know how lucky he is, on the top of a hill, overlooking the bay and enjoying the breeze that blows in from the sea. He never thinks about how hot it must be down there, in the pit, in the city, where everybody lives like ants, crawling over each other, cramming metros and buses. Sharing the heat.

He's home for the summer, forbidden to join his friends from school on their trip to Mexico because of the stupid row he had just before the year ended. He'd like to shoot himself for that now. He could be surrounded by people and lights and the warm dry heat of the Mexican evening, tossing back tequilas and getting gradually more and more wasted. Now, he's sullen, bitter, annoyed.

Sasuke wanders the house, lights are off, only the bright, blue light coming from the pool outside flows through the windows and bathes everything in a cold, galactic sort of atmosphere. He peeps his head round the door to his mother's study. Finds her asleep on her desk. He feels a sudden pang of rage and hate for her. She never denied him anything in the past, and now all of a sudden, she decides to give parenting another try and keeps him imprisoned here, in this infuriating place where everything is stale and lonely. Really there is only one good thing left here.

Anyway, his mother doesn't wake up from her stupor, and he suspects she's had help and his suspicions are confirmed when he quietly searches her desk drawers and finds a little, empty, orange bottle that used to house sleeping pills.

He stands, bottle in hand, and looks at his mother. He's faintly embarrassed, for the both of them. He rarely ever sees her like this, all defenceless and bare. She's wearing no make up and her skin is more wrinkly than he remembers. He looks like her, if he has to look like one of his parents. They've got the same long nose and pale mouth. The same black eyes.

He hesitates for a second, looks at the door. Itachi is completely his father, they're mirror images. Of course, Sasuke has never seen Itachi's mother, but he suspects that he's nothing like her. Though he can't be sure entirely.

He tears his eyes away from the helpless, drugged figure of the woman who brought him into this life and softly returns the bottle where he found it. Then he tiptoes out of the room, making sure to close the door behind him softly. He's sure his mother will not wake up for a very long time, but he does it anyway. He walks down the empty, lonesome corridor but doesn't climb the stairs to his own room, one the first floor (the one with a balcony). He crosses the living room, sees his ghostly shadow in the black screen of their plasma TV and continues.

He walks to the right wing, the pool house, crosses yet another dark, empty corridor and finds himself in front of the door to Itachi's study. There's a faint light coming from behind the closed door. The orange glow lights his face. He hears a creak inside, someone shifting their weight on a chair, and puts his ear to the door. He hears the steady hum of a computer, and the rustling of paper and what may be clothes. Then the sound of his beating heart deafens him and he can't hear anything anymore. He's so hot. He changed into a fresh t-shirt, and still he feels dirty and sweaty. He closes his eyes. His hand hovers over the doorknob. Go in? He can still leave…

Eventually the decision is made for him as the door swings open to the inside and Sasuke finds himself face to face with Itachi who is lit from behind, and wears a halo of golden light. He didn't hear him get up. He's too distracted, and yet, he's never felt more focused in his entire life. Itachi, his half-brother, looks like him, a little. Long straight nose, broad mouth. Eyes like dark chunks of charcoal, framed by long black lashes.

He flicks off the light behind him. He looks serious, he always does. But then the seriousness makes way for apathy. Sasuke has to bite his teeth. He hates this look. He wants emotion on that face, something to recognise, something to hold on to. Itachi is like a statue, frozen forever in that same immortally beautiful position. But Sasuke doesn't want the marble, he wants the flesh and bone and blood and all the nastiness underneath.

He tries to say something and fails. Instead, anchors his hands in Itachi's shirt. He wants to keep him here, regardless. _Don't go just yet_. In the dark everything in the house is different: unfamiliar, cold, anonymous.

Itachi doesn't move. He looks down on him, nothing in his eyes. He's not rigid though, that would indicate emotion. He just doesn't give, he never gives.

'What is it?' Itachi asks, the dark, hushed timbre of his voice fills the corridor and Sasuke's ears.

To him this is a jab under the belt. Itachi knows what Sasuke's here for. No, that sounds wrong. He knows that Sasuke can't talk about it. Doesn't want to. _Don't make me_. He's just teasing. He likes to play with people, like in a puppet show. He likes to humiliate people, bring them down, and them lift them back up again.

Sasuke's not in the mood for that today. Though he knows, he bloody well knows, he'll undergo it all the same. That's no question. But he looks up, sullen and angry and tries to be just a little bit seductive, like he's seen people do on TV, if only to cover up for the begging, the pleading. He grabs hold a little tighter.

Itachi does nothing for a long while. But then he raises one eyebrow and grabs him by the arms, either to hold close or keep away. His dark eyes grow even darker. Sasuke curses himself and takes the jump. It he were to wait for Itachi, he'd never get what he wants. He stands on his toes and presses one short kiss to the underside of Itachi's chin, and then, when he gets no response, another one, longer and wetter. _Come on. Please_. Bearing his soul, his most vulnerable self. Sasuke prays to the gods he won't have to go and heal the wounds to his heart and his pride alone, later this night.

Itachi suddenly grabs hold his arms more firmly and for a second, Sasuke can't breathe. _Don't push me away_. But the hands hold him close, and release his arms to trace upward over his shoulders, to his jaw and they comb long fingers through his hair in the way that makes Sasuke shiver. He can't suppress a smile creeping onto his lips. Two pairs of black eyes meet in the dark. Then Itachi softly closes the door behind him and walks to the pool house, where he sleeps on the large, white sofa-bed. Sasuke follows.

Sasuke feels the heavy beating of his heart and swallows. He's dizzy. Just for tonight, he thinks. Consequences will be there, in the morning, but not now. Now it's fine and sweet. Now they're free. He is.

--

He wakes to the golden light of the morning that breaks through the cracks in the curtains and itches his face. Itachi is gone, obviously, he never stays. Sasuke lies on his back, comfortably naked, his black hair spread on the white pillow. He has to bite his lip.

A look on the clock tells him it's around eleven. He's not hungry, or thirsty, he does have a headache the size of Antarctica which is strange because he didn't drink that much last night. Wouldn't. Everybody's gone, to Mexico, or to Europe. He's been left behind, marooned. Drinking alone is not nearly as fun as doing it together. Still, he thinks, maybe, if he is to survive this summer he may need to make a habit of it.

He scowls and refuses to wallow in self-pity because it doesn't look good on him. He gets up, swings his legs over the side of the bed and grabs a pair of shorts, not caring that they're not his. He moves his weight to his feet and enjoys the sensation.

Then he wants to walk to the kitchen , planning on a martini for breakfast, but he stops and makes for the door to the terrace and the swimming pool. He suddenly longs to be engulfed by water. He want's to be weightless, and he also wants to be clean again.

Outside the sun assails his senses, but he's to bent of having his way in the pool, than letting it scare him away. The red tiles are heaven under his feet, the rough surface more pleasurable than the five hundred dollar massage he gave his mother for her birthday. He stands at the side of the water. His toes curled over the edge in the way that he was taught to.

His eyes wander and look out over the brilliant, glittering bay. He used to swim, almost every day, and it was only a matter of time before he joined a club and started to bring home medals. Gold mostly, whenever he got silver or bronze he beat himself up over it. That wasn't good enough. This year he quit the swim team, the same year Itachi moved back in. He only now swims in his own pool, when no one's watching.

He rips his eyes back and focuses. He closes them and imagines he's jumping off for a contest. The whistle goes. He pushes off. Easy, slim, he glides through the air, and then the water. Under it, everything's quiet. This is the best part. Whenever you're under the water everything else fades away. Sounds are gone or muted. Colours change, you feel more, every bit of your skin is touching. He likes to swim under water and that set him apart in his club. He always stayed under the longest. He can keep his breath for a full two minutes and even that's too short.

When he feels he's reached the other side of the pool he blows the bubbles out his nose and resurfaces. Everything is bright now, and sounds come back to him. He's a new person, someone different. Every time he comes up again he can choose to be a someone new, anyone he wants to be.

Right now, he's not really Uchiha Sasuke, not his mother's son, not his father's son either. He's not Itachi's stepbrother, or even his lover. He's not a man. He's not rich. He's just a boy.

And that's when he looks toward the lawn on left and picks out the figure in the shrubs. Two blue eyes, fixed on him, unblinking. Caught.


	2. Chapter 2

**That One Summer**

_Chapter 2_

_--_

Fuck. Just that. Naruto sees the boy look up and almost immediately discern him from his poor cover in the shrubs. They are two black, flashing eyes and they seems to nail him to the ground much like those of his mother did (he's certain of their relation now), though not dominating or accusing like her, but more mesmerizing, inquiring. He's daring.

'Who are you?' he calls, his voice powerful and unshaken, obvious of its authority.

Naruto doesn't know that just a second before Sasuke had to hold himself together because the grave intrusion of his privacy almost made him faint. It's not because he's half naked, that has never bothered him. It's not because Naruto's in his garden, or because he's just surprised. Sasuke feels wronged and angry that someone caught him in such a moment. He was, for a tiny moment, pure and stripped bare, and truly, he'd rather die than ever show anybody that.

Naruto stumbles forward immediately, which is weird. He usually remains impassive when confronted with authority. One of the reasons they hated his guts at high school. Now he can't get down the slope fast enough. It could be that he knows he intruded upon something privet, something really secret, and now feels guilty.

Whatever the case he makes it down the hill in one piece and awkwardly positions himself by the edge of the red tiles, still on the grass.

'I'm so sorry. I mow the lawn. I didn't mean--'

Sasuke has thrown him a doubtful look and lifts himself out of the water. The droplets cling to his skin, and scatter as he moves his arms to wipe the hair out of his face. On his stomach they stream down in tiny rivulets, cascading over the muscle and bone. It's all too obvious really. Naruto can't finish his sentence and looks away, blushing. He's not really a prude, just not completely comfortable in the blaze of the sun and with this sight: a sparkling marble god. He vaguely wonders whether Sasuke will notice the blush, and if he'll think it's because of the heat, maybe.

Sasuke does notice and his eyebrows draw together just a little bit. He's at loss for words as well.

'You mow the lawn?' He decides eventually.

'Yes, for money.'

Immediately after he's said the words Naruto wants to smack himself in the head. What's that for an answer? Sasuke just nods however, and there's the beginning of a little smile on his lips.

'For money… That's reasonable. It's pretty hot.' Sasuke states, slow and musing.

'Yes' Naruto breathes, with too much relief and he thinks he might look like a complete clown.

Sasuke's smile grows bigger. He's not bothered anymore. He can do with entertainment in the morning. He's already forgetting what happened.

'Okay. Well, I'm gonna go and make a drink. Keep up the good work, I guess.'

Then he turns his back on Naruto, still blushing and blond and with his feet in the grass. Struggling with things to say. Only he now realizes that Sasuke's walking away and has ended the conversation for him. He shakes his head and puts his shoulder to the lawnmower again to get it to move.

Meanwhile, just before Sasuke disappears through the glass kitchen door, he looks back and gives his eyes a moment to slide over the toiling figure. Cute.

--

The Tuesday after, Naruto arrives early again, around nine. The sun is already high in a sky the most violent shade of summer blue. Mrs. Uchiha has buzzed him in (she can do that, scared him witless when the gate clicked open all on its own, he thought he broke it) and now he's making for the shed, where he stored the lawnmower last time.

He opens the door and remembers the busted lamp bulb, resolves to get one next time he's at the shop (but only if it'll be repaid of course).

There's an annoying little voice in his head, and he's been trying to blot it out all morning, but it's growing in power as he grows more nervous. Naruto feels like hitting himself. He's not a nervous person. He's usually very relaxed. It's true, he never really cared for anyone's opinion. Why should he? No one cared for his. But this morning he woke and he felt sweaty and uncomfortable immediately. It's silly really. Because, come on, he surely didn't make that big of an impression. The boy from the pool surely forgot about him the minute he was out of his sight.

There you go. He gave into it. That incessant little voice in his head. He likes to laugh and shake of the feeling. He'd like to get through the day, not too tired, not too dirty, with some cash in his pocket and no unpleasant memories. Unpleasant… Well it wasn't really unpleasant.

Naruto laughs. He often has these little discussions with himself. It's not that weird, most people do.

--

Sasuke's in the pool house. The bed is made, the sheets white and stretched tight on the mattress, you could bounce a coin on them. It's totally bland in a cold sterile way and Sasuke hates it. Though he can't very well go up to their maid Margareta and ask her not to make the bed. She's an old Mexican lady. She'll have a fit.

He sits on the blue and white, striped couch, cigarette in hand, looking aimlessly in front of him. He inspects his nails. Raw and shredded from biting, one of his many nasty habits. He has to think about the boy from yesterday that came and mowed the lawn. He was cute and blond, which he likes. He vaguely remembers blue eyes . He wonders whether the boy will come again, and what he'll be able to pull off.

Sasuke's not promiscuous, that's what he thinks. He's just, well, he doesn't care so much. It's just sex. He sighs and puts out the cigarette in the wet dirt of a big potted fern. Then he gets up resolutely, a new sort of fire in his eyes. Suigetsu will be back on Wednesday because he has to go to Boston with his dad or something and he's promised to drop by as soon as possible. But today, Sasuke has nothing to do and he intends to change that.

He goes to the kitchen, pours himself a long island ice tea and walks outside, to sit by the side of the pool. It's good, hot weather. There's a confident smile around his lips. The boy's going to show, he knows it.

Sure as hell, after a little more than fifteen minutes he hears the roar and stutter of the lawn mower as it protests and drags across the grass. It's coming from the right, where the boy is no doubt finishing off where he left last time. He doesn't see him like before because to the right, the slope isn't as steep, and the part of the house that holds the kitchen blocks the sight. When he gets around the bend, Sasuke can see that he's wearing this hideous orange t-shirt, sleeves rolled up a little to show muscular brown arms. He waits until the boy is close enough until he yells:

'Eh, gardening boy!'

He looks up from his work, surprised, a little out of breath. For a second he stands there and then his brain kicks in and he promptly drops the lawnmower.

'Hello.' comes the answer, a little insecure.

'Come here for a sec.'

Sasuke sits up on the long chair. He has to wait for a long time and enjoys the sight of his poor, struggling gardener to gather up wits for his brain to process the demand, and for the courage to approach the grassy border, where he stands still, like last time. Sasuke sighs and gets up, languid, at ease, in total control.

'Come on.' he says, but the boy stays on the grass.

Eventually Sasuke has to step forward and tug him on the warm, red tiles by his shirt. He seems confounded and unsure on this new territory, where he has no right to be.

'Relax, you must be really hot.' Sasuke says, and tries to make it sound as ambiguous as possible, which he's really good at.

The face the boy pulls is totally worth it and he revels in the stuttering and the blushing. It has been a while since he's met anybody as easily embarrassed as this one.

'What's your name?'

'Naruto.'

'So, what are you up to, Naruto?' again, he rolls with his tongue, plays with the syllables.

'Em…, mowing the lawn?'

Sasuke has to laugh, genuinely, and it's been a long time since he's done that as well.

'You are priceless.'

Then he sees how Naruto holds himself, sweet and shy and modest as he smiles and takes the compliment, without moving his feet from the place Sasuke pulled him to. That's when Sasuke decides to take a step back and let him adjust for a bit. Rushing things will not work. This boy's thick, stubborn, different approach? Sasuke lowers himself to one of the long chairs and leans on his arms as he pretends to look out over the bay, but actually spies on Naruto through his eyelashes.

'You have a really nice house.' Naruto says, just for the sake of something to say.

Sasuke shrugs and doesn't drop his gaze. He's thinking about how he'll handle this.

'I like your shirt.' he says, lying, pointing at the hideous piece of cloth that Naruto wears.

He turns, if possible, even redder and plucks at the collar.

'Oh…thanks.'

Sasuke rolls his eyes at the silence that follows. He's not uncomfortable or awkward at all, but then again, Sasuke is shameless. If he is to seduce this dope though, he's going to have to put him at ease.

'D'you want a drink?'

Naruto looks furtively at the house, in which Sasuke's mom will no doubt be furious if she finds out he's fraternizing with her darling son.

'Won't your mom…'

'My mother doesn't care. Do you want a drink or not?' he answers, and suddenly he's pissed; why did he have to bring her into this?

Naruto looks at him, a little caught off guard by the snappy retort. He shakes his head. Sasuke rolls back his head. He feels mean, and bored and agitated. He gets up, throws his shirt off in one clean motion and feels the eyes on his skin.

'I wanna swim.'

Naruto looks confused. He takes one step back and nods:

'Okay.'

Sasuke rolls his eyes again, visibly.

'Are you joining me?' He asks, in a nasty way that doesn't make it seem like it's a question at all.

Naruto sputters 'no' and shakes his head. He's scared all of a sudden and inches away from the pool unconsciously. Sasuke stops him, holding still right in front of him, cutting off his escape route back to the lawn. Eye to eye like this Sasuke notices that he's a little smaller, but it's a small difference. He looks up from under his eyebrows, and now he's just petulant, forget seductive.

'Come on.'

Getting Naruto to do what he wants, suddenly seems like the world to him. It's the only thing he wants to do today.

Trapped as he is all Naruto can look at are those magnetic black eyes. That little smile, which is really a scowl underneath. This boy is fake. He's lonely. Naruto gazes back, trying to look serious and not so scared.

'I don't **want** to swim.' He manages to bring out eventually, the words soft but steady as he slowly spells them out, like you would to a child.

Sasuke is surprised at the answer, but he's not in the mood to be refused anything and his face darkens with shame and anger. He steps forward and shoves him. Naruto falls backwards as in slow-motion, his eyes still tied to Sasuke's accusing look. It takes forever before he hit's the water, and it engulfs him completely. Naruto can't swim.

To his great shock the pool is incredibly deep and he can't stand. It's cold. He breathes in water and coughs violently as he shakes his body in every direction to try and reach the surface. He breaks through once, and feels the clear air on his face, but before he opens his mouth to breathe he's under again, and swallowing water. His throat hurts, his head hurts. He feels tired and the water is pressing down on him as if they were someone's hands. The worst is that he can't look. Everything's dark. If he were conscious enough he'd curse himself for his stupidity. But he's already fading. The shock of falling sucked all the air out of his longs. It's darker still. The headache numbs to a dull throb, just as the rest of the worlds numbs and becomes indistinguishable.

Sasuke is on the side all that time, and he known's he's done something terrible, but stubborn as he is he's determined to see this out. That stupid gardener has to be kidding. All the thrashing and the kicking is play right? It's all an act.

After way too long a time of just standing there, insecure smile on his lips, wondering when the moron will give up the theatre, he breaks, and dives in after him. Getting him out is no trouble at all. Getting him to open his eyes is.

The sight of Naruto lying unconscious on the red tiles, his sweet blond hair, darkened and wet against his head frightens the hell out of him. Sasuke can see the freckles on his face. He vaguely remembers something about CPR, feels like laughing. He'll probably end up breaking ribs or something. He ends up breaking everything he likes.

After the tiny moment of hysteria has passed and Sasuke has mentally slapped himself to clear-headedness, he leans in and covers Naruto's mouth with his own, while blocking the nose with his hand. He blows and feels very stupid doing this. He hasn't got a clue.

Luckily Naruto was under short enough, and although he fainted, that was more so from shock, than lack of oxygen. So after Sasuke's blows for the third time, he feels spasms wreck the body beneath his and pulls back quickly.

Naruto coughs up what feels to him like half of the pool, and he's left with the most hoarse voice and painful throat he's ever had. His eyes feel puffed and red, and he still can't breathe properly. Sasuke only has eyes for him. He's smiling a smile of such genuine relief that it looks a bit scary on a face so unaccustomed to these expressions.

As they look at each other Sasuke is blinded for a second, by the magnificent azure of Naruto's angry eyes. They are like the ocean, and they have that same bright sparkle that the bay possesses when the sun is at its highest point in the sky. Now, Naruto's just pissed, relieved, shocked as hell and a little blown away.

'O my god, you piece of fucking shit!' He croaks in a broken, raspy voice (he sounds like something out of a fantasy movie).

Sasuke forces the scary smile of his face and fights to resume his haughty expression.

'Are you freaked out because of the near-drowning or the CPR?'

'You kissed me?' Naruto shrieks back, wasting no silence before his retort.

This is the last thing Sasuke expected, and truly, he has trouble keeping his mouth closed. After an eternity he has finished processing the remark in his brain and is stable enough to work on an answer.

'Stupid Midwest, closet cases.' he mutters as he shakes his head, 'I did not kiss you. I gave you mouth-to-mouth, 'cause you were dying, there's a difference.'

He tries to be indifferent but he can't shake the feeling of a narrow escape. The adrenaline in his body has his limbs trembling and tense.

'I can't believe you nearly drowned me, just so you could _have your way _with me!' Naruto exclaims and he shivers at the 'have your way' part, pulling an '_eew! Cooties'-_face_. _

'Wait one second,' Sasuke interrupts, 'I did not nearly drown you, so I could grope you. What do you take me for? I have better ways to get some.'

'Ah! So you admit you drowned me?' Naruto interjects with prompt accusation, his eyes red and blue and looking fierce.

'What?! I didn't know you couldn't swim! What sort of person can't swim anyway?' Sasuke argues.

At this Naruto shuts his mouth hard and he narrows his eyes. He pulls awkwardly angry at his wet shirt and turns on his feet to walk away, dripping water darkening the tiles in his path. Sasuke wants him to go for a second. The heat boils his blood and he's irritable. But then finally his morals kick in, deteriorated as they are, and he calls after him.

'Stay. Okay, I'm sorry.' He fails to make it sound convincing and tries again:

'Come on, please. I'm sorry. Naruto!'

The name makes it do it, and Naruto hesitates the slightest bit, peering over his shoulder.

'I'll make you a drink.' Sasuke finally opts desperately.

Naruto stops in his tracks and turns around, with a doubtful expression on his face. Sasuke leaps into action and reaches out to grab cocktail he left beside the long chair. He throws out the silly parasol he popped into the glass and hands it to Naruto, who takes it cautiously.

He stand there for a second, the sun already drying his shoulders and his hair, drink in hand. Then he turns away slightly and takes a big gulp.

'What is this stuff?'

'Ice tea.' Sasuke responds innocently. '…from long island.' he adds a second too late, tiny smile on his face.

Now the corners of Naruto's mouth curl slightly upwards as well. He is someone used to laughter, and anyway, a serious face doesn't suit him. He seems to hesitate for a second but then downs the drink and gives the glass back to Sasuke, looking awkward again now that he has nothing to do.

'Do you want to borrow some dry clothes?' Sasuke asks him, feeling a little weird as well in his role of good-natured host.

Naruto's face lightens up momentarily, then darkens again as he glances at the beautiful, white house.

'Your mom doesn't want to go in.' He says regretfully.

Sasuke suddenly realises this boy's adorable and snorts: 'My mother's deranged.' in a snobby, conceited voice.

He walks to the glass sliding door that Naruto saw him come out of that first day. You can look inside now that the sun isn't reflected in strangely dark glass. Naruto follows him. Inside it's cool and oddly dark. The tinted glass really is meant to keep the sun out. It makes for a sheltered, shadowy, blue room. There is a sofa-bed made up with clean white sheets and a blue-striped couch. It smells like green tea.

'You can wait here.' Sasuke says and disappears through a door that must lead to the inner part of the house.

Naruto doesn't sit on the couch for fear of damaging the fabric with his wet clothes. He fidgets at the growing wet spot he's leaving on the white carpet. Now the anger has steadily oozed out of his veins he's nervous again. What in god's name is he doing here? He was just nearly drowned, on purpose, mind you. He should be getting as far away from here as possible. Last thing he wants is to end up as is a toy for some bored rich kid to go ahead and mess around with.

He is just one second away from leaving when his host comes back in and holds up a pair of boxers, white shorts and a red shirt.

'These are mine, you'll be a little to big for them I guess.'

Naruto takes the clothes thankfully. Then he stands there, dripping still, but now with the bundle stretched as far away from him as possible to keep it dry.

'Oh, right.' Sasuke remembers. 'Towel.'

He leaves through a different door this time and it only takes him a second to come back with a towel. It's white and soft like the ones you see in commercials, nothing like the pieces of sandpaper Naruto has at home.

'I'll just go outside for a second.' Sasuke opts languidly and grabs with him a packet of cigarettes.

When he's outside he gets a cig from the shirt he left at the long chair, lights it and leans with his back against the window glass. He breathes in a few lungs full of smoke and squints his eyes against the blaring sun. He'd like to peek, through the glass. It's tinted, though, and he's afraid of getting caught. It's so hot outside compared to the coolness of the dark room. He smokes the cigarette down in several fast, hard breaths. In the next fifty seconds the desire to look crawls up again and it becomes almost unbearable. Sasuke has to smile. It won't actually hurt to look, right? He finally convinces himself and peeks subtly over his shoulder.

Inside Naruto stands a little forlorn with the towel in his hands. Then he sighs and peels his wet shirt of his back. It's a relieve to have the heavy, cold thing off him and he drapes it over a chair, hands already at the button of his pants. He pulls them off, taking his underpants off with them. He dries himself thoroughly with the white towel (it feels like rubbing a baby seal over your skin) and then quickly pulls on the dry clothes. As he turns around he only just manages to catch one black eye peering at him secretly.

The anger momentarily flushes his cheeks but it ebbs away almost as quickly as it rose and only leaves nervous fluttering in his stomach and a hot blush on his jaw. His knees are actually wobbly as he walks to the door again and squeezes himself halfway through the space left open. Outside the sun assails his senses and he has to blink his eyes to keep the white spots out of his brain. Peeping Tom turns towards him, the most innocent expression on hiss face. It's ludicrous.

'I saw you watching.' He says, eventually, after he's taken a deep breath, and it sounds too daring, not at all how he meant it to come out.

The boy regards him with a blank stare. Then he flicks his eyes to the bay and back again and drops the cigarette on the tiles.

'I was.'

Naruto can't talk, but he laughs soundlessly. He leans back against the white wall of the house, looking, smile on his face. To the left he sees the sparkle of the sun and the blue skies and the heat that plays tricks on the horizon. To the right he is bathed in the cool, dark air of the pool house. Then he looks at the boy again, whose got such black eyes as you have never seen before. The smile softly grows on both their lips. Naruto suddenly can't imagine ever having been angry with this person.

Sasuke leans forward, as he sees that the other one isn't going to move a muscle from that tempting position he has taken (unconsciously?), leaning against the wall. He keeps their eyes locked, with the faint knowledge that nobody can resist him when he does that. Not that he's really trying to be seductive now. His mind is way beyond that. To that point where lips touch.

Both of them dive into the kiss with soft, ardent fervour, Naruto leaning in at that last second to meet the smiling mouth coming towards him. He holds up his hands to cup a perfect jaw and then draws tight lines over sweet skin, to end up with his fingers in soft black hair. Sasuke tastes faintly of alcohol and smoke, but he also tastes like chloride and smells like sunshine and a whiff of suntan lotion. It's not really a bad mix, not at all. Naruto can't get enough of it.

Sasuke himself, more physically oriented, runs his hands along a strong, muscled back and a hot, tan neck, soft with downy blond hairs. They go on for some time exchanging kisses, switching from leaning against the wall, to leaning against the window, pushing each other playfully, fighting for the upper hand. When at last their little private moment of bliss is interrupted.

The world comes back to them, slowly, as they pull themselves out of each other.

'It's my mother.' Sasuke says infinitely regretful and he tears away.

'I have to go anyway.' Naruto responds, if possible with even more reluctance.

'I'll see you?'

'Of course.'

Smile.


	3. Chapter 3

****

That One Summer

__

Chapter 3

--

'What are you thinking about?' Konohamaru asks with a sidelong glance at Naruto, who's standing with his hands in the hot water cleaning the dishes, except he's been washing the same plate for the fourth time now and it's getting weird.

The little kid is at the tiny, shabby breakfast table, bent over his homework, smudging the ink with his greasy sleeve. Naruto startles and drops the plate into the scalding water that splashes and burns his exposed neck. He flinches and presses a towel to the sore spot. With his free hand he continues looking for the plate under the filthy water, dodging the pieces of pasta floating on the surface.

'Nothing.'

-

When it's dark outside and there's only the blaring, intrusive light of the hallway neon lamps shining in through Naruto's apartment windows, he goes to bed silently. He turns off every light in his rooms and finds his way through the comfortable darkness of his own familiar surroundings by touch and knowledge.

He curls up in his bed, knees drawn up and the covers hiding him from sight. There's a smile on his face. He's thinking about that guy. He's still got his t-shirt. He shakes his head and wants to laugh, does so quietly in the pillow. He doesn't even know his name. That's okay. He has other names he'll call him for now: my love, baby, knight in shining armour…

He hugs the shirt against his chest. Who knew he could ever be this horrible sappy.

-

Sasuke stays up until he hears everything around him settle down. Then he travels through the empty, foreign corridors to that infuriating closed door he knows so well. The one that's never open. He knocks. No sound. Sasuke swallows and knocks again and closes his eyes tight in prayer_. Be there, don't be there_. He doesn't know what he wants anymore. Suddenly there's a sound.

'Go to bed Sasuke.'

He stays.

'You're pathetic.' The same voice continues.

This time one lone, damned tear escapes Sasuke's left eye and he wipes at it furiously and soundlessly. He leaves, as quiet a s he came.

-

The following morning Naruto has no trouble at all getting out of bed. His feet are unusually light and itchy. He feels like jumping and running and for once, he looks forward to the hard labour ahead. He fixes himself something to eat, makes a mental note that he has to go shopping soon and walks out the door, locks it behind him, runs down the stairs and jumps the last three of them.

He's soaring and nothing can bring him down today.

-

Suigetsu is one sneaky asshole. He reminds Sasuke of a snake, but more of an eel. He's silver, literally. He's very pale and has straight, whitish hair that's cropped shirt just below his ears. He is of Scandinavian descent, of which he is absurdly proud. He drinks expensive European bottled water and calls Sasuke 'typically American' so often that sometimes it embarrassing. In short he's arrogant, insensitive, lecherous and pretentious, and also happens to be Sasuke's best friend.

He's lying on the long chair now, martini in his hand, bottle of water by the side, his thumb and index finger on his brow.

'**FUCK**! My head hurts.' He shouts, adjusts his sunglasses and then downs the drink.

Sasuke, sitting on the side of the pool, looks over his shoulder, sucks the cigarette all the way down and then stubs it out on the red tiled floor.

'Shouldn't have gotten so fucking drunk then.' He says and the words come out a little accusing, engulfed in smoke.

Suigetsu throws him one exasperated look.

'You wouldn't have been able to stand them sober too, you know. Remind me to never again go out with such retards, please.'

Sasuke looks at him darkly and scowls.

'At least you're able to go where you want. I'm getting so tired of being stuck here, you have no idea.'

He looks at the pool again and at his pale feet in the water. He's never liked his feet, and he always wanted to be a little more tan. But it's his damn genes that make him either bright red or white as a sheet. He prefers the latter so applies a generous amount of suntan lotion.

'Aw, little Sasuke all alone, going slightly mad.' Suigetsu coos in his ear as he cups his face.

Sasuke tears his chin loose and pulls at Suigetsu so that he looses his balance and falls into the pool. Sasuke, already in his swimming trunks follows after him, slipping into the water smoothly. He opens his eyes under water and looks at Suigetsu in the pressing silence. Thank god that under water he quiet. Big Mouth Suigetsu.

They both surface at the same time.

'You little fuck.' Suigetsu shouts with a smile on his face and he swims closer.

He's still in the swimming team, totally fit and like an eel in the water. From up close there's a dangerous sparkle in his eyes, his skin is flawless, no doubt from all the water he drinks. He also a little stronger than Sasuke who isn't as fast under water as he is on land. Suigetsu grabs him by the neck and pushes him under. He holds him there just a second too long for it to be entirely harmless and when Sasuke comes up again he has to gasp for air. Suigetsu likes to play games, and he likes to win, and sometimes, those games go a little too far.

Sasuke fights himself free and swims to the shallow part of the pool where he starts to wade towards the side.

'Ah come on, don't be such a kid……. I'm sorry, alright.' Suigetsu sounds too presumptuous to be serious.

He overtakes him in a few quick strokes and traps Sasuke in a corner, his hands cupping his face again. He likes to do that, even if he knows Sasuke hates it because he feels like a child, someone's doll.

'Forgive me?' Suigetsu pleads with an arrogant smile on his lips.

Sasuke glares at him with his eyes for weapons, two black laser beams of aversion.

Suigetsu the eel lets it slip of his skin and laughs in his throat as he presses several sloppy kisses on Sasuke's mouth, stifling any protest.

Then he gets out and pours himself another drink, alcoholic one. Sasuke remains in the pool, water up until his navel and he roams the horizon again with cloudy eyes. He doesn't like the condescending Suigetsu, he prefers him when he's completely drunk. Then he's a right laugh, and never sharp enough to be truly cruel. This hung-over prick though, can draw the blood from under his nails.

He's already got one pretentious, fickle, opportunistic asshole in his life, he thinks and his eyes drift over the darkened windows of Itachi's room. Immediately ripping them away again, and scolding himself for even thinking about that. Some thoughts, you know, are not meant for daylight.

He wades to the side, lifts himself out of the water and makes for door to the pool house. Right now he wants cool air and darkness. He can't stand the blaring sun anymore. He can't stand Suigetsu, who's so obviously rotten it's not even charming anymore.

He enters through the door, closing his eyes for a second to get them used to the darkness indoors. Then someone coughs. Sasuke whips himself around, thinking for a second that it's someone else. But it only Naruto. Bronze skin due to the tinted glass of the windows, curiously bright eyes. He looks caught, again, and a little sad.

It's quiet for too long and Sasuke doesn't know why but he's got a foreboding feeling. He's guilty too, doesn't of what.

'I just brought you the clothes. I washed them.' and he puts them down carefully on the striped couch.

Then suddenly he's too close and they're both looking at their feet, awkward and secretive and guilty on both sides. Naruto leaves first, blots out the sun with his body for a second and disappears.

-

It all started out wonderful, but now it's total shit. Naruto would like to kick himself in the head for ever believing. ..

He stops in the sunlight, too bright on his eyes and he can't sea beyond the violent sparks that dance across his retina. He has to breathe deeply to try and wash out that constricted feeling in his throat. How could he ever have been so stupid?

You have to know that Naruto is not naïve or ignorant when it comes hormones, sex and just plain cruelty. He was raised by several homes, none of which were luxurious or the slightest bit concerned with the blossoming sexuality of the fickle teenagers they housed. Naruto grew into it himself, alone, and he didn't need any explaining. He's actually relieved that, concerning his love-life, he's always been free to do whatever he likes.

Of course there's the pressure and the comment of the kids he grew up with, and he has to admit that got a lot of crap for liking boys in stead of girls, but thank god he never had to get out of the closet in front of his parents.

He knows what kind of shit goes on in the minds of teenagers, and not all of it's pretty. He knows that kissing is not a promise necessarily, and a look may seem to be poignant, but it rarely ever means anything. Some people are especially apt at getting what they want by flashing a little leg, sharing a couple of kisses, touching in the dark.

There was a girl in the last home he lived at, before he got his apartment, who slept with her counsellor on a regular basis so he'd keep his mouth shot about the growing number of scars on her arms. She was also fooling around with a boy up the hall in exchange for the laxatives he got, and actually offered Naruto a blowjob for some cash she needed very urgently.

Naruto declined, respectfully. He never thought of her badly, she was not a slut. She was sad and disturbed, but never purposely hurtful.

He had known, from the start, from when he first saw him, that the boy was no angel, and not innocent, but then why had he not been prepared for the sight. He still can't relax his mouth, stuck on a soundless growl. He never imagined himself a fool, but he is.

But now he's leaving, done with the stupid fence or not, the job can wait. He just wants to get out and away, maybe look up Lee and Kiba who might be in the park.

'Hello there. Either you're Sasuke and just had the most amazing tan, or I haven't met you yet._'_

_Sasuke_? Is that the name of his ex-prince charming, now most hated betrayer? Naruto comes to a stop suddenly as he threatens to walk into a lanky aristocrat, silver hair, tall glass in his left hand. Wearing a shirt, unbuttoned and wet underneath. It's the same boy that was messing about the pool before, that one that just pressed such sure, derogative kisses on Sasuke's mouth.

Naruto grows red in the face a little.

'You haven't met me.' He says curtly and falls into step again.

'Big mistake, I make it a business of mine to get to know all the cute boys around. My name's Suigetsu.'

Naruto opens his mouth and prepares for a snide remark (he's not used to being confronted with such confident condescension), but he's interrupted by Sasuke who has appeared in the doorway now.

'His name's Naruto, and you have to back off.' Sasuke's averting his eyes from them, sun's the excuse, but he sounds annoyed and slightly aggressive.

'Ooh, prissy much. I didn't know he was taken.' Suigetsu replies and rolls his near perfect steel-blue eyes, then he looks at Naruto again, a curiously hungry and daring stare.

'Does he always answer for you?'

'No, and I'm not taken.' Naruto snaps, feeling very hot and very trapped.

'Nice. Excellent, so I can make you a drink without offending anybody.'

Before Naruto has the time to even open his mouth and after eyeing Sasuke pointedly, Suigetsu drifts off to where he left a glass bottle of liquor on the tiles. He takes his own glass and fills it generously. Then he walks back and holds it out with perfect confidence. Naruto is about to shake his head but then Sasuke interjects from behind him.

'Leave him, Suigetsu, he's just the gardener.'

On second thought, Naruto takes the glass and downs it. Hands it back immediately and eyes Sasuke with as much insolent as he can muster.

'Oh Sasuke, you snob.' Suigetsu moans affectionately and he continues:

'Don't mind my friend, you see he grew up getting everything his little heart desired and now he's brat. It's my fault really, I spoil him too much, but I can't resist. When he turns those eyes on me, poof! I just get all weak in the knees.'

Sasuke's hiding under his bangs and he's got his arms clenched tight over his chest. He's fuming, probably.

'I think you should go.'

'You've still got drink in your fridge, I'm not going anywhere.' He responds amiably.

Sasuke takes a deep breath and he snatches the glass away, simultaneously pressing the half-empty bottle in his now open hand.

'Drink alone Suigetsu. Leave.'

Suigetsu's smile fades, but only for a moment, then he laughs again.

'Alright. My father's expecting me anyway.' (Sasuke pales, jab under the belt?) 'So I guess I'll be going then.'

And he turns but before he's gone completely he whips a pen out of his shirt pocket and grabs Naruto's hand with strange, cold fingers.

'Call me sometime.' He says and smirks.

When Suigetsu's gone it seems like the sun's less blaring, it's light and golden somehow, now that he's not here. Naruto still feels awkward and there are the remains of anger in his stomach, like shards of broken glass, but they're melting in the heat and he's far too confused to really care anymore.

'I guess you want me to leave too?' He whispers furtively, though he didn't really mean for it to come out in a whisper.

'No. Not you.' Sasuke replies at once, without a breath's contemplation. He's eying the horizon again. Curious tic.

Annoyed but also strangely relieved Naruto drops down on one of the long chairs. He'd really like something to do now, to occupy his hands, but he can't think of leaving. Sasuke walks to where he left his own clothes and roams the pockets for a cigarette. It's quiet now, no traffic, no birds, just the heat and the buzzing.

'I'm sorry.'

Naruto doesn't respond. He's never actually been apologised to, but he's a little disenchanted now. The statement is disappointingly void. He looks at Sasuke, glad he knows his name now, ashamed that he had to hear it from someone else. Apologies don't work, not if they're not sincere, and anyway, it's not going to change what happened.

Sasuke breathes out and smoke softens his features. He's really quite beautiful. Naruto scowls.

'Your friend's a real prick.' He offers after plucking at his sleeves for a minute.

Sasuke nods.

'So why was he here?'

Sasuke shrugs. He gets lonely a lot and then Suigetsu comes, not as a comfort, but as a painkiller and it's delicious how he can numb you like morphine, only with words and touch and kisses. Not today though. Today he felt to raw and too conscious of himself to allow Suigetsu to pull him around and down in that slow addictive spiral of smiles and insults.

'Sorry.' Naruto says, and Sasuke looks him in the eye for a second, having almost forgotten he was there.

'Friends are friends. I mean, I wouldn't know about that so don't listen to me.'

Peculiar.

'What do you mean?'

'Nothing.' Naruto shuts down.

Sasuke drags his feet around the pool, left to right, right to left. He gazes into the water and every now and then shoots careful looks at Naruto, who's still on the long chair. Then he faces the house, back to the pool and catches Naruto's eyes, which are squinted in the sunlight.

He breaks the stare and drops backwards, arms outstretched, for one moment's breath loose from the ground and floating on the hot air, then the water engulfs him, cool, heavy and deafening. He sinks to the bottom and looks up at the distorted light that is so much softer here. Eventually he has to go up for air and when he breaks to the surface he leaves everything nasty under water and is cleansed again.

Naruto's been watching him, edge of the chair, intent face. Relief is carefully hidden.

'Why can't you swim?' Sasuke asks, arms on the red tiles, chin resting on them, licking the chloride off his lips.

'Just can't.' Naruto shrugs.

'It's not only that. You don't like water.'

'You're right, I prefer Ice Tea.' Naruto responds but before that he was silent for too long which affirms what's been said.

'We float, you know, all by ourselves. It's not scary.' Sasuke muses and he's still got these intense eyes fixed on him.

He falls back in the water, gently, without splashing and, just like he said, floats. He wipes slow circles just below the water surface and carefully turns his head a little trying to avoid the little waves of water.

'What are you doing?' Naruto asks and it's plain to see now that he's angry.

Frowning, he gets up and paces up and down a couple of times before he says:

'I'm going now. Don't think I'll come back. Tell you're mother I'm sorry but she's going to have to find somebody else.'

Immediately Sasuke dives for the side of the pool and he pulls himself out of the water, his hair is slick against his head but then he wipes at it and it starts to peak just beside his ear.

'I don't mean to be a jerk. Don't go. Fuck. You don't have to leave.'

'I think I really do.'

'No. You really don't. I promise I'll behave. I won't do anything. Suigetsu won't be here. I won't kiss you again if you don't want to.' That last bit comes out so quick because Naruto's already walking on the grass, rounding the bend and he's almost disappearing in the dry, faded green bush there, but he stops.

'I'll teach you how to swim.' Sasuke offer's finally, desperately.

Naruto keeps walking.

-

**Damn, what a bitch to write, but i've been busy doing exams and generally freaking out now and then. And i started up another project so I've been slacking lately. Anyway, exams are almost over now so hopefully I'll get my act together again and make up for my lazyness.**


	4. Chapter 4

**That One Summer**

_Chapter 4_

--

'Would you ever sleep with someone dishonest?' Naruto asks Sakura the Sunday morning after the scene at Sasuke's house.

'You fell in love with a liar, Naruto?'

'I don't know yet.' He looks up from his white hands, covered in flour.

There's a sad little twist around his mouth. Sakura, wearing kaki shorts and a pink shirt and an apron long enough to cover them, puts down the plate she's holding and gently strokes his cheek. She smiles comfort at him before turning around, down to the cellar to get more pots of apricot jam. Naruto resumes kneading the dough, but his hands are too large and clumsy and he's not focused. He can't makes the loops and swirls that he usually rejoices in making. Every shape he makes is disfigured and frowning.

'You're a good guy Naruto, the best I know. If this potential liar doesn't appreciate that, then he's not worth your attetion.' Sakura's voice sounds from the cellar, where she's rummaging around in the dry, half-dark in search of the jam.

Naruto's afraid it won't be that easy, or that simple. He's not even sure who's really to blame anymore. Back when he saw it happen in the pool it was like lightning, the utmost betrayal, conscious and vicious and completely unforgivable. But now, now after two night of bland, colourless living, he starts to have doubts. He must have turned it over in his mind a thousand times. This morning when he woke up he discovered that he's not angry anymore. They were never together and nobody promised anything. Who is he to say what it wrong and what isn't. Why can't Sasuke kiss his friends if he wants? How the hell can he judge him for that?

Naruto looks at Sakura coming up the treacherous wooden stairs. He used to think he was in love with her, before he realised that he just loved her. She's so beautiful, pale and rosy with these yellowy-green eyes that he's never seen in any other face, and above all a kind smile. Naruto treasures smiles. Hers is one of the most valuable ones.

'I think you've lost the power.' She says solemnly as she peers over his shoulder at the failed pretzels.

'You want me to salvage those last twelve?'

'You're a lifesaver.'

He wipes the flour of his hands and hooks his apron over a hook next to the door. Sakura gets to work quickly and efficiently. She's worked here since she was fifteen, that's three years ago now, and she helped him get the job.

It's nice and dark and always warm because of the oven. They have to be quiet in the morning because Mr. Yamanaka and his wife and daughter sleep upstairs. Naruto doesn't really consider this work. He's been doing it for so long now, he's used to getting up at the insane hour in the morning. He'd wake up regardless. The walls in his apartment are paper-thin. He can hear the neighbour's baby crying and the occasional angry shouting two doors down.

They hear stumbling upstairs and a couple of minutes pass before the familiar tacktacktack on the stairs that signal Ino's coming down. She pops her head through the door and grins.

'Good morrow youngsters.'

The boss' pretty girl. She's seventeen, eighteen in a month, smaller than average but slim and graceful. Her legs are long and she likes o show them of in short skirts, like the one she's wearing right now. It's her school uniform, but she modified it so the hem comes up and inch shorter.

She kisses Sakura on the cheek, they've been best friends for years now and eyes Naruto cheekily, back pressed against the door, leaning backward. She has always flirted with him and there was a time when Naruto didn't know what to make of it, but now they've settled for this amusing teasing every morning. Ino provokes, Naruto heartedly answers her smiles and winks and teases her right back.

'Sooo, Naruto.'

He laughs at her and pulls her towards him by the strap of her bag. She allows him to pull her cheek against his lips as he smiles and says:

'Go to school already.'

Ino chuckles, grabs an apple, fixes it between her teeth and waves goodbye. Ino goes to summer school because she has a learning disorder and her dad wants her to go to college no matter what. She'll be back by one and probably hang out with Sakura for the rest of the day.

Naruto envies their friendship. They used to fight a lot, but after that one night when a lot of angry words fell, both girls just buried the axe and found that apparently, after all, they did respect each other.

-

Sasuke finds himself alone again, in his bedroom where he rarely ever sleeps. The sheets are dark blue and spotless without so much as a wrinkle in them. He's in front if the big closet that houses all of his clothes along with a stack old books and a box with photos in them. On the closet door there's a mirror, inside the mirror is Sasuke's reflection, pale and seemingly tiny in the big empty space of the room. He leans in, hands on the dark wood, and peers into his face, looking for traces.

He's been blessed with his skin, never had many pimples, but the constant exposure to the sun has made it a little dry and leathery. His eyebrows are smooth and black and he can raise one of them in perfect scorn, a look that most people know him by. Underneath the eyebrows is the shadowy skin of his eye socket and below that the glossy part of the eyelid that catches the light.

Back when he had that fight in school, when that freak Gaara attacked him, his right socket was turned a pretty shade of blue, yellow and red around the edges. That, a split lip and some painful bruises to his ribs, was all the damage took. Gaara didn't look much better than him, but on Gaara the bruises looked worse. The redhead fights with no inhibition and his guard sucks. He got himself hit multiple times but he didn't so much as flinch. His nose was swollen and blue for a full week after.

Sasuke takes some distance, adjusts the collar of his white shirt and grades his general appearance. He looks three years older, sensible, responsible.

The reason of the fancy getup is the visit of Gaara, his father, sister and brother. His dad says 'visit' but really it's an armistice. The Sabaku's and the Uchiha's are closely connected and his father works with some of them. He can't afford to lose their favour just because his idiot son can't keep his temper in check.

Downstairs his mother's panicky voice:

'Sasuke, they're here!'

She's nervous even though she plays the part of amiable hostess like no other. Sasuke wanders down the hallway, stalls as long as he dares and then walks down the stairs. His mother has just let them in. The maid is taking their coats, it was chilly outside, but in the hall it's warm. His mother is wearing a fabulous black dress, her hair is up. She looks beautiful, but also like she's tried too hard. Sasuke wonders why she seems so intent on impressing them.

'Hello Mr. Sabaku, can I say you look wonderful? I adore that shirt you're wearing. It's very classic.'

Only his mother can say that and not look an absolute fool. The shirt is practically the same as his own, or Gaara's for that matter. The redhead pins him on the stairs. His eyes are the colour of his pool by night, lit up by the lights under the water: a violent, disturbing blue. Not at all like Naruto's summer-skies.

'Sasuke.' He says.

'Gaara.' Sasuke responds, grave voice, hardly able to hide the hostility.

At the dinner table his parents discus business with Mr. Sabaku even though mother jokingly forbid the men to do so. Itachi, dark and handsome, sitting too far from Sasuke, chimes in now and then with a devastatingly clever comment that has all the adults grinning while Gaara's sister, a blonde called Temari, eyes him often and points her large breasts at him, visible in the impressive cleavage of her cream-coloured dress. Kankuro, the brother, is more silent, and focuses on the meal and the drinks.

Gaara sits right in front of him. Staring. He barely touches his food and when the main course comes he eats only the meat. Sasuke doesn't know whether he's scared or just thoroughly disturbed. After dinner and a couple of drinks Sasuke's and after Sasuke's father has assured himself that the Sabaku-Uchiha bond is not yet broken, they say goodbye. Just before they leave Mother reminds them that she hasn't shown them the new painting yet and she ushers everyone up the broad, white stairs, leaving Gaara and Sasuke alone in the hall.

'You're hard to peg.'

It's entirely quiet now and it's not as if Sasuke hadn't heard him but he still feels the need to say:

'Excuse me?'

'You're hard to peg. Usually I can read people's faces.'

'so what does my face tell you then?' Sasuke answers just for the sake of saying something.

He doesn't want to come across as someone verbally retarded. He wants to be witty for once. Witty and snappy like his brother was at dinner.

'Like I said, you're difficult, but you're definitely hiding a secret.'

'Everyone is.' But not all secrets are as dark and sordid as his.

'I don't suppose you'll want to fill me in on yours?'

Sasuke doesn't get the chance to respond. His mother is back with the guests. Gaara shrugs and he leaves with his family. Nothing else said.

-

It's dark now. The parents are sleeping. His mother had a little help in the form of alcohol and pills maybe. Sasuke is lying in the hot, still, blue air of the pool house carefully breathing. He's on his back, but his head's turned and he is intently focussing on the shape next to him. Every fibre of his being is conscious of the proximity, the not-yet-touching. At this moment now he'd give all four of limbs for the courage to reach out and brush his fingers along an arm or a leg, anything.

But Itachi won't have it. He has some rules and Sasuke can only obey. Rule number one: at the exact moment that Sasuke enters the door he can only be passive and everything that is done is done by Itachi. He does the talking, he does the fucking. and eventually, he does the kicking out. Rule number two is that when the sun rises, one of them will be gone. Most of the time that's Sasuke because of rule number one. The third rule is that none of this is real and therefore there's no need to ever mention it .

Sasuke tries to breathe as quietly as possible, but his blood throbs in his veins and his vision is achingly clear in the darkened room. He can see every contour and all the shadows.

'Do you think people notice?' He asks, his heart beating with fear and excitement at finally having broken that first rule.

Immediately after he feels guilty and in the long silence that follows he almost decides to slip away.

'Notice what?' The voice eventually responds indifferently.

The 'what' hurts him really deep. More than you can imagine. Don't pretend I'm the only one thinking this.

'You know what I mean.'

He still can't bring himself to say it. Who ever knew shame and humiliation were such powerful forces that they could lock your jaw and keep you from ever saying a word. In the silence that, like a vacuum, seems to swallow the entire room, Sasuke anxiously awaits the answer, and when it never comes he bites his teeth at the misery inside and shamefully slips out.

-

Sunday afternoon, Sasuke's in the waiting room. He's sweating profusely, which is strange because there's a sign on the opposite wall saying 'Live healthy, live Zen' and next to that on with 'Make yourself at home' in an elegant black handwriting on a pale green background. The wall itself is lavender and the colours go surprisingly well together.

Sasuke has appointments with his psychiatrist every week, ever since he entered puberty and his parents started to think he was acting strange… Tsunade's assistant, the subtly insulting Shizune waved him to one of the chairs and now he feels stuck to the leather seat. It squeaks every time he moves. In front of him, making obnoxious eye contact, is Sai, another regular. He winks at him once and wipes his tongue along his feminine upper lips. Sex-obsessed, he'll hump everything that moves.

Sasuke rolls his eyes and tries to ignore him, focussing on the buzzing of the ventilator instead. It's incredibly warm. Then the phone on Shizune's desk goes and she picks up.

'Your turn Uchiha.' She mentions annoyed.

Tsunade's a nightmare when it comes to paperwork so Shizune suffers hard labour under her. Sasuke stands up, embarrassingly ungluing himself from the leather. Sai smirks at him and cups imaginary breasts with his hands, eying pointedly.

Sasuke knows what he means and once inside Tsunade's office that becomes obvious again. His psychiatrist, mid-thirties seemingly, but actually ancient with a genius for a cosmetic surgeon and too much money on her hands, has managed to cover her impressive **rack** with a white pressed, designer shirt. Sasuke grimaces at her and routinely drops himself on the red leather (not again) couch. Tsunade leans over, blinds him with her cleavage and inspects him over the rims of her black framed glasses.

'Sasuke, how've you been?'

He sighs before he answers and once again contemplates how much this woman _knows_. She deals with almost everyone who's anyone and must have heard the most decadent stories. Like Gaara said, everyone's got secrets. So then why in god's name does he always feel so hot whenever she looks at him like that, with those clever brown eyes of hers.

'Very well, Tsunade. Things are great.'

'I'm pleased to hear that, but you know as well as I do that last time you were here that wasn't so much the case, was it now?' She likes to end her sentences with question and Sasuke sighs again, he misses the sound of the ventilator, which is not as loud in here.

'No, I guess not.'

'I'd like us to pick up where we left off, can you remember telling me about how you felt imprisoned, stuck in your own house? Have you thought about what I asked you, about the fight you had in school?'

'I…'

It always takes Sasuke some time before he can talk freely. He has to think things through. He knows that with Tsunade, he can be honest, and he is, about most things. But he'd rather put a gun to his head and pull the trigger than spill some secrets.

'I feel different now.'

'That's interesting,' she makes a note, 'how is that?'

'I met somebody.'

'Mmm.'

'It's not really important I guess, but he made some comments, made me think.' Sasuke's gazes a the ceiling and the crook where it meets the wall, salmon pink.

'He said Suigetsu was a prick. He also made it clear that he thought is was one too. Sort of. Do you think I'm a prick?'

'What I think is not important. Do you feel like a prick? Do you feel like you could be friendlier?'

Sasuke's quiet for some time. Then he responds in a voice that borders on childish.

'If I'm a prick then that's only because I was raised as one.'

'Let's study that, shall we? If you see your home a some sort of prison, than surely you see your parents as prison guards.'

'I don't see them at all.' Sasuke mutters. 'So they're not guards I guess.'

'So what prevents you from going out? Why do you stay in, instead of going out with your friends?'

Sasuke knows damn well why. He can't bring himself to do anything but wait. He's good at waiting. He does it every day for twelve long hours of sunlight, and then when the sun sets he waits in front of that door. If it doesn't open he continues to wait, if it does… If it does he finds bliss and sin alongside one another, two sides to the same coin.

'I don't know.'

-

After his thirty-five minutes are over he's still hot, sweating and desperately longing for a dive in the pool. He crosses Sai in the doorway who gives him a thumbs up and a lecherous smile. Sasuke's convinced he only comes for the one-on-one with Tsunade and her decorous rack. One five-hundred dollar session later and Tsunade's probably got him down as one promiscuous, bi-polar agoraphobic teenage nut. Something which he could have come up with on his own.

-

It's Monday morning, feels like judgement day to Naruto, though he's already made up his mind. He pulls on something nice today, not the usual orange and green, but a nice, light blue shirt with a cool print. Today, he'd like to be somebody else. Not the victim for once, not the lower class lawn boy, not just a piece of ass. He leaves with only one intention, to make some money, head held up high because he's proud, proud that he makes his own living, proud of his independence.

On the buss he's courageous, and when he gets off in the nice neighbourhood, he still is. With every step he takes up the hill though, as the air gets slightly cooler blown in from the sea, his head clears up, and with that, the worries.

He makes the bend, opens the garden shed and finds the new pots of paint Mrs. Uchiha's bought him, for the fence. He piles them in his arms and pushes the door closed with his foot. When the electric blue of the pool in the sunlight assails his eyes, he sees Sasuke too. The boy is lying on one of the long chairs, eyes closed. He looks asleep, has actually curled up a little, as far as that's possible on the polished wood.

Naruto takes a breath and drops the paint on the tiles. Sasuke opens his eyes and smiles. It's not one of those seductive smirks, it's genuine.

'Don't get any ideas. I came for the money you know.'

Sasuke keeps smiling, a little shy, it's unnerving.

'Excellent.'

-

**This one's early, (I guess) because I was so late last time. Forgive me!!!!!!!!!! Pls alert me if you find too many spelling mistakes and it starts to hurt your eyes. English is not my first language, but I'd like to learn.**


	5. Chapter 5

**That One Summer**

_Chapter 5_

_--_

It's been quiet for a while now and Naruto has settled for painting the fence in hot, oppressive silence. Sasuke has been ridiculously well-behaved. It's not like him. Where are the playfully downgrading remarks? The lazy comments? The slightly offensive looks?

When Naruto got started Sasuke asked him 'should I help?'. Struck speechless Naruto declined. He wants this to be a business relationship now, only. He should be capable of keeping his feelings in check. He already let himself slip once, got disillusioned very soon after.

He peeks over his shoulder where he sees Sasuke in the pool, head fearlessly down in the water, cleaving a way for himself leaving bubbles and waves in his wake. He doesn't understand why Sasuke likes swimming so much. He hates to admit it but every time he sees him take that jump, hang for a second in still air, and then be submerged by water, his heart skips a beat and he fears for him. It's stupid. There is no danger for Sasuke in that pool. He's incapable of drowning in it. He stands so strong, a carved, marble god with lightning for eyes. Nothing can bring him down. Naruto sighs, shrugs of the heat and dips his paintbrush in the bucket again.

Then he glimpses, from the corner of his eye, a tall figure that has appeared by the side of the pool. Dark and handsome, the splitting image of Sasuke himself, but still, marked by a fundamental difference. Sasuke stops mid length and looks up, into the sun, at him.

Naruto observes them stand like that for a while, conversing, when suddenly Sasuke turns his head around and looks straight at him. The moment is too short for either to break eye-contact. It's not that kind of look.

Sasuke swims to the side, still looking up, head bent at a crazy angle. He clambers onto the side, ungracefully for once, awkward. He straightens his back to bridge the distance between him and the man, when he has, they look into each other's eyes for a second. Then the man grabs Sasuke's chin, says something and after that, with the same hand, in the middle of his chest, pushes him backwards, away. Sasuke falls into the water, too shocked to make it a dive. He falls like a brick. He breaks the surface of the water immediately after, water coming out of his nose, not the Greek river god he once seemed, but flushed and coughing at the chloride like the rest of the mortal world.

He watches the man's back as he moves away, no doubt through the door to the pool house, though Naruto can't see that. All he can see is the hurt, blatantly there on Sasuke's face.

-

Sasuke's in the pool, pain in his chest and an awful, angry heat that, despite the cold of the water, blooms in his stomach and on his face. He shouldn't feel so fucking betrayed, but he does. The agonising scene plays across his retina, again and again, only this time all the words come slowly, as to hurt him more.

'Hello little brother.'

'Itachi?' his voice, surprised at seeing that god-awful face in natural daylight, where it glitters hard and pale.

There is such difference. Itachi's eyes that by night are gleaming shadows under his brow, are too menacing by day.

'I felt myself obliged to come and talk to you, as your big brother I do feel a little responsible.'

'What's wrong?' he asks guilty, can't help it.

'You feel the need to ask? After that stunt you pulled at school, (physical combat Sasuke? Honestly, you're of better breeding) I thought I made the right decision of telling father he should ground you. Now I'm not so sure… '

'You told father?'

'Also I doubt whether your visits to Tsunade are doing you any good, she is a little liberal for my taste. But all that I could have accepted. I'm a tolerant person, as you very well know.'

'What are you trying to say?' Now he's moving towards the side, but he has an awful, dry feeling in his mouth.

'I'm saying that I can't allow you to continue doing this.'

'Doing what?!'

'Fucking the help, Sasuke. It's desperate, even for you.'

Sasuke's eyes flash towards Naruto, half-hidden in the bushes, before he can help it. Thing is, he's looking back. Sasuke rips his eyes away, down, guilty and red in his neck, behind his ears. He can't deal with that right now.

'I don't know what you mean.' he mutters and starts to lift himself out of the water, grateful he now has an excuse to not look him in the eye.

'Really? The boy in the bushes? He's not even your type.'

Sasuke bites his teeth, bitter now. Type doesn't really come into this. In the end he settles for a soft, undeniably rebellious:

'**He's not you**.'

Itachi's face falls. For a second Sasuke think he'll hit him, but then a hand shoots up like a claw and fastens itself around his chin.

'You're a little whore.'

Sasuke takes the words like a physical blow to the guts, but there's not enough time to recover because Itachi pushes him backwards, body already half turned away. He falls, arms flapping wildly and somehow it feels like he's plummeting to his death. The water breaks his fall though, engulfs him and sweetly soothes the wounds for a second.

When he breaks through to the surface though, the world is still there, non-changed, still harsh and violent and in the end, desolate. The spot where Itachi pushed him on his chest burns like fire.

He wants to say 'I hate you', but ultimately, can't speak the lie.

-

He continues to see Sasuke over his shoulder, who heaves himself out of the pool with strangely stocky limbs. On the red tiles he rubs his hands in his hair, combs it back and starts drying himself off, something he usually never does.

After a couple of minutes in which Naruto tries to forget the awkward, intimate display of emotions he just witnessed, he hears footsteps in the dry grass behind him. It's Sasuke, obviously, barefoot and fired up. There's a frustration in the way he moves and his face is set determined. Naruto still can't look at it straight though, feels horribly like an intruder.

'Hey.'

Naruto nods in response. He keeps dragging the brush across the smooth wooden fence, fiercely concentrated, but sooner or later he'll have to break the routine and dip the brush in the bucket of paint again. He dreads that moment because then, inevitably, he'll have to look Sasuke in the face, who stands next to the bucket, breathing through his nose, looking at him.

When the moment comes he tries to do it at fast as possible but without warning Sasuke knocks the brush out of his fingers and throws himself against his chest, arms around his neck, mouth on his. Naruto, surprised at the sudden strength, falls back against the wet fence though it only mildly registers in his brain that he's wrecking his t-shirt and pants. His mind is presently being blown by sweet, hot kisses.

He feels his own hands travel upwards, leading a life of their own, and settling on the damp, warm skin than is Sasuke's jaw-line. Then, finally, reason kicks in with all the more force, as if to make up for the tardiness.

'Haven't we been down this ally before?' He breaths heavily as he holds Sasuke's face in his palms, at a seemingly safe distance.

Sasuke breaks that illusion as he turn sinfully dark eyes on him, all lust and hunting.

'Don't pretend you don't like it.'

He can't, much as he'd like to. Evidence enough that he does: the laboured breathing, the flush on his face, the growing discomfort in his jeans. All things he'd very much like to hide right now.

'That's not the point.'

Sasuke raises one prefect eyebrow and hooks himself onto Naruto's collar. He pushes the constricting hands back and drags his tongue lusciously across his throat.

'The point?'

Naruto, for fear that he might pass out, struggles free and exchanges their positions on the wall, pressing Sasuke's back on the wet fence now. His hands are on his shoulders, keeping him there.

'The point is that I don't need a summer-fling.' Naruto says an, hating himself for it, adds: 'I need money.'

Then as if to try and make up for that disgusting thing he said, that sounded so vile and rotting in this pressing summer heat, he says.

'I need a way out.'

Sasuke's eyes do that thing again where he eyes the horizon for a quick moment before he throws them on the ground.

'Don't we all.'

In that moment, the buzzing warmth is all around them and deafening, to make up for their embarrassed silence.

'I didn't peg you as someone who wanted out.' Naruto says afterwards.

Sasuke looks at him questioningly.

'I figured since you have it pretty good up here, why would you want to go right? I wouldn't.'

'Yeah, well, I'm difficult to read.' He scowls bitterly at the realisation that Gaara, socially inept, murderous Gaara, may have been right after all.

He slaps away the hands on his shoulders and starts walking back to the pool, with the intent to disappear into the cool shadows of the pool-house, his hospital ward in so many ways.

'Wait. I didn't say go.' Naruto yells after him, for a moment forgetting the whole picture, him: lawn-boy, Sasuke: probable ivy-league candidate. He struts towards him on long, brown legs.

'If you're serious about this, whatever 'this' is, then let's go on a date.'

Sasuke, struck speechless by this horrifyingly simple suggestion, just stares. Naruto says nothing though and is softly smiling, awaiting an answer, studying his face? Sasuke turns away.

'I'm grounded.' He croaks, his voice suddenly hoarse.

Naruto partly confused at the sudden mood swing and partly amused that he brought it on, stands in front of him and cuts him off, making them both stop in the bright sunshine. This is the moment. Sasuke will refuse or accept, and that way he'll know whether he was just going to be another lay, or something else. Suddenly he's nervous. What if he'll refuse? What if it really was just that, a fuck or nothing? One of the two.

'I'm grounded.' Sasuke whispers again, eyes unfocussed.

'You don't look grounded to me. No one's actually keeping you here, is there?' Naruto replies quickly, a little hopeful.

Sasuke dreams again, he thinks about what Tsunade said. If there are no prison guards, and he still can't leave, does that mean he is his own? His own prison guard?

'I guess not. Where do you want to go?'

Naruto's face erupts in a big, relieved smile, feeling very lucky. Sasuke tries on one himself, finds that it doesn't fit and rolls his eyes instead.

-

They're in a dusty diner by the road, it's about just as close to Sasuke's house as it is to Naruto's. He doesn't know why he's chosen this middle-ground. The bus drive over was quiet most of the time, comfortably so. They sat next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, Naruto's hands were on his knees, he had the window seat.

He's by the window now as well, and Sasuke's in front of him, inspecting the menu with a crease between his eyebrows. When the waitress comes, Naruto orders a vanilla milkshake, and Sasuke, after a second of concerned doubt, orders the same.

Naruto chuckles. Sasuke looks at him speculating, but doesn't inquire.

'What are you thinking about.' Naruto eventually asks, after attacking his milkshake, and as the silence grows and Sasuke's face gets more and scrunched up in thought.

'I'm thinking that we should have stayed at the house and made out, is what I'm thinking.'

Naruto chokes on his drink and has a coughing fit. Meanwhile, in no state of concern, Sasuke gingerly slurps at his milkshake. He swallows, pulls a face and says:

'It would have cost us a lot of time, and money, and the bus fare.'

Naruto, recovered from the fit, and starts to play around with the sugar.

'Don't you want to get to know me?'

'I can get to know you just fine at the house.'

It's surprising how much Sasuke can imply with those innocent words. He's not even smiling, though, he's serious.

'I think maybe you're slightly agoraphobic.' Naruto replies.

'It means that you-'

'I know what it means.' Sasuke cuts him off.

Why in god's name is everyone so sharp these days? And why are they all so intent on psychoanalysing him, at least Tsunade get's paid.

'It's healthy to get out.'

Sasuke yes him warily over the white-yellow foam in his glass.

'I suppose you get out a lot?'

'How can you say those things and make them sound so… dirty.'

'Dirty?'

'I'm not a slut.'

Sasuke chuckles, leaning over the table. That's the last thing he would have thought, but he's jst warming up to the conversation.

'Nothing like me, you mean.'

Naruto smiles, because he too can hear the humour in his voice. That gentle mocking, Sasuke can do very well, even at his own expense. The sunlight streams through the dirty, dusty windows. It heats up the red, leather seats and sheds light on the particles in the air. It also paints Naruto's hair an angelic shade of gold.

'Do you have a brother?' Naruto asks later, since the image really hasn't left his mind.

Sasuke, quiet for a while, answers:

'Yes.'

Then, immediately after, very keen on opening a new subject he asks about Naruto's siblings? Are there any? After that it's parents, which leads to a verbal dead end, sort of. Nobody wants to talk about dead people. Naruto recovers bravely though, and tells him of Sakura instead, Ino, Kiba and Lee in the park. Obnoxious Konohamaru, the amusement park.

Sasuke feels relaxed and orders another milkshake, (finding that he liked his, after all). He melts away in the softness of the dusty outside world and the warm, blurry lullaby that is this conversation. He never thought he was one for mundane talking. He never cares what other people have to say, not about themselves at least. In his world there are only meaningful words: words to curse, words to get your point across, words to convince, words to seduce. He knows them all. Has used them all.

Naruto is different. He likes listening to Naruto. Not so much because of what he says but because of the way he says it, and because of the sweet face he makes when he rolls his blue eyes to the side to remember some detail, and when he laughs at his own silly comments.

It's past lunchtime when they leave, and Naruto suspects the waitress is angry that they didn't eat, just had three milkshakes and occupied a table for two full hours.

'What do you want to do now?' Sasuke asks him outside, in the dust and the hot air that blows past whenever a car passes them.

'I don't know.'

'I don't want to go home yet.' Sasuke says after a long pause, and he doesn't.

This has been the most free he's felt all summer. He's been in the house for too long. He's on a high and nothing can take him down. The bright sunlight has woken him up and the noise all around him makes his senses OD. Naruto's blue eyes in front of him only add to that. They both smile and Sasuke notices the small imperfection in Naruto's teeth, a canine that leans inward and pushes on the others. He immediately decides he loves it and longs to run his tongue along it. 'Let's go', Naruto says and he starts to walk down the road, to the bus stop.

'Are you going home?'

'It's rude to invite yourself in, you know.' Naruto replies teasingly but deep down he's nervous.

Above all things he wants to hide the way he lives to Sasuke. It's good right here, on this middle ground, but nowhere personal please. He stops at the timetable and runs his finger along dates and hours, even though he practically knows it by heart. Sasuke leans back against the glass wall and looks at him sideways. He hears him sigh, audibly.

Sasuke's on the brink of inviting Naruto back to his place. It's so hot in his brain he can barely think. If they weren't on public display like this, he'd kiss him for sure. Those lips are made for kissing, he thinks.

'I'd invite you back to mine.' He starts to say hesitantly, but Naruto's suddenly quick and final.

'No, I'm done for today, I'm not gonna go back. I think I'll just head home. I still have to do some shopping, library maybe. I'm busy.'

Sasuke nods, tries to hide his disappointment.

'Alright.' _you don't have to be so …harsh_. Is left unsaid.

At that exact time the bus comes, it's Naruto's. He looks at Sasuke and opens his mouth to say something. He looks worried. The bus driver doesn't look very appeasing though and in the end he shrugs, says goodbye and gets on.

When it's out of sight completely Sasuke bites his lip until it bleeds. What the fuck is his problem? Always clinging, always needy. Always such an idiot.

-

He's on Tsunade's couch again. Sooner than expected, it's Wednesday now. Naruto didn't show up on Tuesday.

'I'm just feeling very bad right now.' He tells her in a high voice.

'What changed since last time? What happened to the boy you met?'

She leans towards him, her breasts wrapped tightly in a maroon-coloured top over which she wears a long white shirt. Her cleavage is impressive, as always. Sasuke wonders if maybe she gets off on it, whoring up for kids like Sai, whom he saw in the waiting room again and who made some inappropriate remarks.

'That turned out to be nothing. I don't think he likes me much. I don't know whether he ever did.'

'Well you two talked, didn't you? If a person talks to you that means something. It's worse to be ignored, don't you think?'

Yes, yes. Something Sasuke knows very well. There is no pain like the pain of absence. Words may hurt you but it's the things unsaid that really kill you slowly.

-

The session ends quickly. Tsunade's a little stressed, he can tell. She's sweating through her white shirt. He likes her, he realises. She's a confidant, no matter if she gets paid to be or not. She's on his side.

He meets Sai in the bathroom who comes on to him, as usual. But Sasuke doesn't hurry out this time. He stays and looks at himself in the mirror, and at Sai, who looks disturbingly like him in this light. He wonders if that's what he seems like to people. Horny all the time, incapable of saying anything sincere.

He doesn't shy away at the hands on his face, his stomach, below. He just stands there, against the marble sink in the soft aqua-coloured lights and allows Sai to feel him up. '_Little whore'_. Is what he hears inside his head. Neglect is worse, he thinks, and how Itachi has mastered that technique. He knows just how to make him beg. Then he abruptly pushes Sai away from him. Two can play that game. For once, he'd like to be the one to walk away. The one in control, the one who's got himself in control.

Outside the office, in the cool ventilated hallways, he discovers that Sai left him his phone number in his pocket. Sly bastard.

-

It's night and Sasuke's been dreading it for the entire day. He's curled up in the sheet regardless of the pressing heat that creeps in through the windows and rises from the floor. He likes to be engulfed, have with something around him, the covers, the water of the pool, someone's hands, whatever.

He hasn't been waiting in front of Itachi's door this night so he doesn't know whether the latter would have let him in or not, and it gnaws at him. Gradually though, he falls asleep, and he's almost conscious when his door opens silently, and someone steps in, like a ghost.

-

Naruto enters the electric gate in the bright sunshine and as he looks around he starts to feel a little sad. The garden looks almost spotless. The grass is watered and the fresh green looks shiny in the daylight. The trees too are looking healthy. The fence is almost done and, though Naruto can't see behind the house, he knows that the flower beds are looking fine. Maybe this'll be his last time here, depends whether he'll finish the fence or not.

He finds he enjoyed working here more than he anticipated. The heat doesn't bother him as much as he'd expected, not when the sea breeze blows in, cooling down the entire hillside. It's quiet, no cars, no sirens, no people. He even thinks the nervous fluttering in his stomach is bearable.

He walks down the path that is covered in half-shadow. The sun that peeks about branches and lights up his face, blinding him, at short intervals, keeps him from seeing the pool clearly. When does finally get the chance to look over, all he sees is a black head of hair popping up over on of the long chairs. The hair is shorter and looks different, less styled, than usual, but Naruto doesn't register. He smiles and after one moment of sweet hesitation he walks over. As he crosses the green lawn the smile brightens and he starts grinning stupidly.

Sasuke doesn't hear him coming. He sneaks around the bend, and crosses the border between the grass and the red tiles, having no trouble doing that now. Not anymore. Intent on giving him a good scare, Naruto walks silently towards the chair and, finally jumps in front of it.

His smile clouds over faster than you can say 'thunderstorm'. Long black eyes open and look up at him. But they're the wrong ones, they're not Sasuke's. The face isn't either, it's more round and the boy's hair is shorter, he can see that now.

'Sasuke?' Naruto cries out.

'Not really.'

The boy's voice is strange and Naruto detects a slight lisp. He sits up now, leaning on his arms.

'But you can call me whatever.'

Naruto takes a step back immediately. There is something cruel and ironic about the fact that they look very much alike, Sasuke and this boy. _Let them be cousins_, Naruto prays. _Please cousins, or if not that than just friends_. The image of Suigetsu pops into his head, Suigetsu holding Sasuke's face in his hands and looking deep and dominating in to those black eyes. He flinches.

'Where's Sasuke?' He asks, his voice a little shrill.

'Taking a shower.' he responds and quickly adds 'My name's Sai.'

_I don't care what your name is, I want you gone_. Is what Naruto longs to shout, but he holds in. There's something very snakelike about this boy. Naruto can't cope with it, the roaming eyes, the flirty smile, the shallow, hollow wanting. He can't see that, not on a face that is so much like Sasuke's. Then the words register and although Sasuke probably has a shower every day, maybe in the morning, there's something vile about the way Sai says it.

He shakes his head, indignant and horrified. He can't open his mouth to speak. Inside him there are two voices fighting. The one that eventually wins is saying, nagging, laughing: '_You knew this all along. He's not genuine, ever. He laughs at you. He makes you crawl. He's the only one who can tame you and when he's done that, he'll tie you up and leave, until you choke yourself to death.' _

Naruto turns and runs. He never wants to come back here again.

-

**Rapid upload, right? I have a holiday now so I guess that only fair. I'm thinking about finishing this one soon and then starting another. This one is just getting a little burnt out (don't worry, I do have good ending though, just have to reach it...). Anyway, tell me whether I should start on a sequal to 'Pull The Trigger' or not. **


	6. Chapter 6

**That One Summer**

_Chapter 6_

_--_

Sasuke wakes in the morning with absolutely no clue of what is to happen this fateful day. He stretches out in the sunlight and glances at the clock, which reads 11 am. He gets out of bed and starts looking for his pants but can't find them, not where he left them at least. He shrugs and heads for the shower.

The water wakes him up even more and he feels his heart fluttering. Today's a Thursday and if all's well Naruto is supposed to come today. He feels nervous but the anticipation doesn't bleed him like on Tuesday. Today he's feeling hopeful. It's a shame Sasuke never was one for prophetic thinking. It's a shame he's dead wrong.

He goes to the kitchen, looking out of the huge windows that cover the entire eastern wall to see if maybe Naruto's there already. He doesn't see Sai until he opens his mouth and says:

'Good morning Sasuke.'

'HOLY SHIT!' Sasuke exclaims and only just manages to hold himself up by the marble counter.

Holy fucking invasion of…. privet contemplation. He looks at the boy with eyes large in shock.

'What are you doing here? How did you get in?'

Sai turns around, opens the fridge and starts inspecting its content, confident as if he owns the place.

'You're a real tease, you know.' he says, as he takes out the milk and starts searching the cupboards for a cup.

His head of straight black hair looks messy.

'I get a text in the middle of the night. FYI,' he wags a slim finger at him and does a mock stern face. 'You're a prick for waking me up, but I figured, since I'm already awake...'

He turns to him now, takes a sip of his milk and puts down the cup next to him. After the sound of the porcelain hitting the counter all that's left is a shocked silence. Sasuke doesn't know what to say, only that _he did not remember sending any text-messages_. Sai pouts at him and secures his hands on his shirt. His eyes are really black and shiny like marbles.

'I come all the way over and it's not even you opening the door.'

Sasuke shake his head as the realisation starts to dawn on him.

'You're brother's a much better host.'

That's the final shard and it breaks the silence. Sasuke pushes him off violently, his thoughts are with Naruto at once. He looks out of the windows again, frantically now. He can't suppress a bitter scowl and feels like crying at the irony.

'Looking for your gardener?'

He whips his head around.

'Yeah, I figured. He was so cute.' Sai's eyes seem to wander and he smiles to himself. 'He had to go all of a sudden, really strange. But beautiful.'

Sasuke can't believe his ears, or his luck. He wonders whether there might be a god somewhere, and whether this god might have some kind of personal grudge against him. Why is it that everyone around him can have the chance to be happy and whenever he feels happy for the shortest time, all that luck is ripped away from him immediately. Why is it that everything in his life has to be torn away or just plain awful.

He paces the room, smashes the door of the fridge closed so that the cabinets shake. He's more angry than hurt or sad. Sorrow and pity don't help you in real life. Anger does, anger drives you, anger stirs. Anger is fuel and right now Sasuke is filled to the brim.

-

Naruto has managed to run all the way from the bus stop to the amusement park where he works and now he can't feel his hands for the pounding in his chest. His ribs ache, his throat hurts and most of all he'd like to curl up under the sheets of his bed and never appear again. He feels embarrassed and furious that he let it come to that. Because let's face it, he walked right into it. Like a brick wall. Boys like Sasuke don't go on dates with boys like Naruto to talk, or connect or anything _gay _like that.

He scowls and draws his nails along the rough wooden fence that surrounds the park. The pain feels good. He'd like to keep forcing it until he bleeds at the fingernails. At least then he'd have an excuse not to go to work. Now he's just a big drama queen.

The day is beautiful and bright and mocking him for his own foul mood. The sunshine stings his eyes and he feels a headache coming on. Fortunately, half an hour later he finds himself sitting on some deserted steps with a stuffed head over his own. Not the park's orange duck that everybody loves, but the creepy looking, second rate squirrel. That's okay, he doesn't feel very popular today. He's probably incapable of amusing anyone today. Frankly, he'd rather shoot himself than laugh and be merry and scare the little kids that hide behind their parents' backs.

He feels like he's tugging a dark cloud along with him that casts a deep, black shadow over every step he takes, only the cloud doesn't float, but drags at him and weighs him down. That's why he on the steps now, broken and defeated. Finally able to sob quietly for a while, where nobody will see him or hear him. At least the sun doesn't reach inside the head as much, and it's shadowed and orange where the light peeks through.

_Just leave me here, _he thinks. _Just like this, in myself, where I won't be a nuisance to anybody and where no one'll be a nuisance to me. _

Half an hour later he gets the message that being a depressive squirrel on the stone steps to the Ferris wheel isn't really doing the park a favour, so if he'd kindly get up and be jolly, or go home.

-

Despite what he first thought, Sasuke had paid attention that afternoon when they went to the diner (Sasuke is still iffy about calling it a 'date', but that's what it was). He remembers what Naruto told him about his apartment, little though it was. He also remembers what bus he took, if only because he stared at it until it disappeared around the curb and took his hope away with it.

The building is big boned and concrete underneath its flaking coat of paint. Sasuke looks up. He knows Naruto lives on the fourth floor. He'll try every door then. This sudden nearness of inevitable drama makes Sasuke hesitate. Should he really take that step? He absolutely despises scenes. He hates to see emotion. Real emotion. It's all good if you keep it buried, and then hire someone to try and dig it up like Tsunade. But these outbursts, these blatant displays of feeling, he dreads them.

He opens the door and enters the hallways, which is small and metallic. He absentmindedly pushes the button for the elevator while trying to come up with words that won't sound entirely premeditated. What an incredible ease it would be if he could make people understand without having to phrase anything. He'd want nothing more than to gaze into those sweet blue eyes and get the point across, that he never slept with Sai, would have, probably, but then he met him.

The elevator pings and the doors slide open. The hallway is musty but cool. It smells like cats and pigeons and garbage, but the scent of smoke cloaks most of that. With every step now he feels his heart beat more fiercely, as if it's trying to break his chest and leap forward. To try and explain. Why in god's name does he go through all this trouble for this boy?

Muddled voices from further down the hall reach his ears. One of the doors is open, light pours out. The voices, two of them, male, indistinct but unnerving, come from within the room. Sasuke stops. He has the knowing feeling that the room he's looking for might be that very one.

He holds back and peeks down the hall indecisively. Then something behind him captures his attention with and with a sudden surge of fear Sasuke feels himself be pulled back roughly. He's behind the elevator, just out of view in a hollow in the wall. His back is against the cold metal of the maintenance door. Over his mouth, obstructing his scared panting, is Naruto's hand.

Sasuke relaxes slightly, but then he sees Naruto's eyes and he feels frightened again. His bruised glance is focused intently on the men in the hallway, who've now appeared from out of the room. They're the eyes of a wild animal hiding, one inch away from certain, brutal death. His hearts pounds and he can see a pulse in Naruto's tanned neck, now flushed and sweaty.

He's breathing heavily as well. All of his, his every fibre focused on the two people who evidently came to see him, but haven't found him…yet. One of them is tall, pale like a ghost, snakelike in movement with an in genuine smile. The other is tall as well, but unlike the dark-haired man his hair is a shocking white. He has a corpselike quality to him. Bloodless lips and concrete eyes. There is no movement in his face, but his hands shake. Their voices become comprehensible as they walk closer.

'He's not there. Leave it, Kimimaro. He can't keep away for ever.'

When they pass Sasuke smells dead flowers and maybe rain on metal. The elevator doors open and hide away the two shady men, but Naruto remains silent for a full minute longer than that.

He slowly retracts his hand and places it over his eyes, his hair. He looks completely bewildered and is not making any eye contact. The skin under his eyes is wet. His neck is damp. He looks like a wreck, like he looked when Sasuke pulled him out of the pool, like he just escaped something that was near and snapping at his heels.

'Hey?' Sasuke croaks, his voice hoarse as he furtively tries to break that pregnant silence.

Fruitlessly. Naruto stands still but panting in the bleak sunlight that filters through the dust on the windows. He stares blindly into the space ahead of him, wide-eyed. Sasuke wills his heart to beat slower and swallows. Then he reaches out with his hand and covers the distance between them which held them apart for so long they might as well have lived in different continents. Before they touch Naruto turns away and starts down the corridor. He enters his flat and heads for the kitchen, where he opens up a top cupboard and searches a can.

Sasuke enters after him precariously. He glides his eyes over the flat and its sober furnishings. He knows of course that there are people living in poverty, he's not stupid. It just never occurred to him before that Naruto has got these kind of problems.

The sound of the can against the kitchen counter makes him concentrate on Naruto again, who is standing with his back towards him dismissively. There is a sudden tightness around his shoulder, a forced silence. He is fighting a battle against his tears as he chokes them with pure strength of will.

'Those fuckers took my money.' He rasps eventually.

Sasuke doesn't know what to say. It's all too much like a scene from a movie. What's he doing here in the first place? Oh, right. Confession. It all seems rather pointless now. Despair breaks Naruto's wall of silence and he breaks out in heavy pants, as if he had been holding his breath. Sasuke used to do the same in the pool. He'd hold his breath until he saw stars in front of his eyes and clawed for the surface of the water. It was then that he discovered it was impossible for a human being to drown himself, just like that, in a pool. Not lie he tried or anything, but it dawned on him one of the bright summer days, and it has stayed with him ever since.

'Fuck.' Naruto breaths, hands on the counter, head hanging low, eyes closed.

Sasuke feels unwanted, and, for once, he hates it. He feels completely powerless and blatantly unneeded. What has he to say that could possibly make him feel better? He, who has had money thrown at him all his life, who has never lacked anything, except, perhaps, for love.

'Who were they?' He settles for eventually, because in these cases the simple things are always easiest to say.

Naruto shakes his head over the counter and start putting back cups in the cabinet. He's still tense, but the cupboard door clicks with a broken finality.

'Boss Orochimaru and his bitch. God, he used to be a good guy, you know, Kimimaro, but now he just a corpse. His corpse.'

Sasuke nods and faintly wonders what the 'boss' in 'boss Orochimaru' means. He only knows bosses of corporate law firms and things like that, but he suspects that in this case it concerns a very different type of boss.

'What did they come by for?' He asks and then, hastily continues as he sees Naruto look, 'I mean, not just the money right. The wondered where you were…'

He thinks that maybe he's taking this conversation to far. Past a bearable point for Naruto, who has turned to him now, back against the counter, eyes a dark azure in the glare coming from the windows.

'Boss O. knew my dad. I've knows him all my life. He's my godfather.'

Sasuke's eyes widen and for a split second Naruto shows the glimpse of a smile.

'Sort of, he checks in on me sometimes.'

'Then he takes your money?' Sasuke states dryly, even though he doesn't mean to sound so mean.

He hopes Naruto will see through it, at least. The latter inspects his fingernails and frowns deeply, knitting furry blond brows together.

'You don't know him. He's fucked up. He says I owe him for the protection he gives me. Which is bullshit of course, I don't owe anybody anything. It's best to just let him. He can get really…persistent sometimes. Besides, he's got more henchmen that just Kimimaro. He owns about half of the downtown district. I can't afford to piss him off.'

Sasuke nods his head and eyes the ground. He noticed that final note that sounded juts a little desperate. Nothing at all like Naruto.

'I never pegged you as one for appeasement.'

Naruto looks up at him and drills bleu eyes into his skull like two pieces of clear glass. He tilts his chin up and at that moment he is so much more than this poor kid in his shabby apartment who works three jobs to keep it and who finds himself being harassed by his employers snobby brat of a son. He looks regal and fierce and like he could move mountains.

'What would you know of me? What are you even doing here?'

Sasuke takes a step back, bumps into to the thin wall that separates the kitchen from the hallway. He feels himself bare and squirming under that glance and finally decides, out with it. It's what he came here for right?

'I came to tell you that I didn't sleep with that guy. Sai. I never did. I would have, before, probably.'

Naruto crosses his arms over his chest.

'Before?'

'Before you came. You know.' Sasuke leaves those last words hanging in the air like party balloons on a funeral.

He looks at him hesitantly and pleading, two sensations he's quite familiar with, but has never combined like this. Whenever Itachi makes him plead he's always damned determined to see it through, the torture, the games.

'You didn't sleep with him?' Naruto asks tentatively, after he's watched Sasuke sweat for a full twenty seconds.

Sasuke shakes his head fervently and mouths no. He feels the corners of his mouth edge up in a victorious smile, but all hope is put out like a flame when Naruto shrugs his shoulder and, while passing him into the living room says:

'Well, I don't know why you told me. What is it to me?'

Sasuke, jaw unhinged, shakes his head and follows him.

'I wouldn't sleep with him because I like you, I thought you knew that.'

Naruto inspects the room and starts to search for anything else that might be missing.

'Well, that's all very nice, but, and I told you this before, I don't need anyone right now, I need money. More than ever I guess.'

He enters the bedroom (Sasuke notices the absence of door and lifts one eyebrow) and starts rummaging around under the mattress.

'How much did they take?'

Naruto's blonde head peeks around the doorframe.

'What?'

'How much?'

Naruto frowns suddenly and then, suspiciously, asks:

'Why?'

Sasuke takes out a banknote and holds it up in the air with shaking fingers, eyes all dare and lips slightly smiling now.

'Fifty, for a kiss.'

Naruto snorts and disappears again, though the sounds coming from the bedroom are louder now as he stumbles aimlessly through the little room, trying to catch his breath back. Trying at least to drive the red from his cheeks and ears. What the fuck is this rich boy thinking, proposing something like that? He's completely shameless. Naruto scratches his neck, feels the hotness that has suddenly built up there, under his skin.

'Don't be like that. It's only a kiss.'

Sasuke has poked his head into the bedroom now, and because the blinds are down, and because of the natural midday shadow in this room, it's dark enough to make his eyes shine like big, dark pebbles in a stream. He smiles and approaches, Naruto stays frozen on the spot.

The banknote dangles in front of his eyes while Sasuke's face in the background mouths: _money, you know you want it, money, money, money…_

While Naruto is trying to figure out whether he may be joking, or, if not, what it would mean if he said yes, Sasuke has bridged all that distance between them and is up in his space, breathing his air. From close by he doesn't look all that confident. There's a longing in his eyes, in his twitching hands, in the way he licks his dry lips to keep them from cracking as he forces the smile. Naruto doesn't notice. He's looking at the money, so easily made, but it comes at a price so high he's not sure he's willing to pay.

He reaches out to grab the paper finally, having made up his mind to do _something _at least, but Sasuke withdraws his hands and kisses him instead. Warm and rough, a little sweaty. Naruto, mind on the money (he hopes, but not really anymore) freezes. They're not practising with sweet expertise like before, under the sun and against the fence. For some reason, here, in the half dark and under these conditions, the kiss is loaded and unpolished.

Sasuke draws away after what seemed to Naruto as not even half a second. He suddenly feels the paper pressed in his clammy hand and looks down at it, then up, into black eyes slightly apologetic under their victorious peel. There, that wasn't so bad. Both breathe out relieved. Naruto at discovering that it wasn't nearly as horrible and forced as he thought it would be, and Sasuke just that nobody threw a punch. He's is faintly surprised that Naruto allowed him to pull this shit off, he's faintly embarrassed about it as well.

Naruto turns around and tucks the money away in a corner of the room. His broad shoulders tensed. What now? Say 'thank you come again'? Then he hears the ruffling of paper behind him, and he feels his neck heat up again, even more. There's a strange taste in his throat. He turns, finally, dreading the sight.

Sasuke, brimming with nervous longing, in front of him, a fist full of banknotes that will add up to a sum much larger than fifty. Naruto eyes the closed palm thrust out to him pleadingly. A feeling of anger wells up in him, but it's not strong enough to burst, it's more of a nagging. Something he has to prove wrong. He grabs the fist and twists it so that Sasuke flinches and drops the money to the floor. The paper falls down and some of it disappears under the bed.

Other than Sasuke's throaty cry, nothing breaks the silence. The honking of the cars in the background fades to a dull summer buzz. Naruto, still with that arm in hand, takes a step forward and looks down into that face, which is really, fucking beautiful. He wishes Sasuke would smile though. He'd like to see that, bet it would be a sight to remember.

For the moment though he's content to just worship it's surface with his eyes. The shadows are soft. He swallows. Closes the gap. His mouth hovers over Sasuke's lips, inviting him up to claim what he's paid for, only that's not how Naruto thinks about it. He combs through black hair and pulls it. Sasuke reacts fiercely, struggles to return the affections. He's clinging and clawing in a way that almost frightens Naruto. It makes him take hold of that body more strongly. He grabs two wrists and secures them against the bed, on which they seem to have fallen now. Vertical becomes horizontal and gravity weighs him down. Sasuke underneath him breathes big, long gulps of air as if he's swimming.

Naruto, who has now wrestled him down completely, is red-faced with exertion and itching in all the right places. He looks down into eyes clouded over. Eyes which asks him to do one thing only. Eyes and a body so deprived of love that now, as both have finally fleetingly tasted it, can only beg for more. _Just for a little while, just for today, love me and adore me. Afterwards you can think of me however, but just for now, grant me this. _

Naruto, although he knows this is might be trouble, feels the need to comply. Ever the altruist, ever pleasing, hard-working, bereft Naruto, can think of nothing better to do than to shove aside reason and, for now, postpone that dreadful moment of bitter realisation, to bend his head and kiss those lips, that skin. Give and not take. He's already forgotten about the money that gathers dust under the bed.


	7. Chapter 7

**That One Summer**

_Chapter 7_

Sasuke wakes up to darkness and noise and the remnants of a tranquil dream just fluttering out of focus. It takes him a while to remember in whose bed he's lying. There's some light coming from the kitchen, the other room, and some from the window, where the streetlights are like fat fireflies, guiding lights to drunkards and the destitute. He folds back the sheets and exposes his naked limbs to the cool night air that drifts from the open window.

He dresses himself quickly and with no particular rush satisfaction. There's no afterglow. There is, however, a certain soreness, not unpleasant, that tugs at his lower body. He feels tired and drained and completely serene for once. That is, until he leans against the doorframe and sees Naruto in the kitchen, rumbling around with some pots and knives, dropping pieces of vegetable on the floor, and picking them up again, obviously not having as good a day as he is.

He allows his eyes to wander over that body and notices with painful clarity the tensed shoulders. His movements are jerky and agitated. There is barely any light in the room, just the pale yellow coming from over the counter and the tiny blue sparks underneath Naruto's evening meal.

'Hey?' Sasuke opts, unsure of himself and his place in this room, this apartment, this life?

Naruto drops the pot for a second and he twitches, but in the end doesn't turn to see him. He resumes what he was doing after a second and offers a dry, forced: 'Hey' in return. Sasuke feels unwanted, and that's exactly what he is. Not that Naruto hates his guts right now, just that he can't deal with him, with what he did, what he succumbed to.

Naruto's posture is rigid. It's not at all what Sasuke secretly dreamed of that short interval of sleep he got the tranquil dream of domestic bliss. He imagined light in the kitchen, or at least a warmer glow, and his hands around that boy's shoulders, mouth at the nape of his neck spelling letters with his tongue or something silly like that. He never had the chance to, but he'd really like to spell out words on that skin, three letter words like _pot _or _fox _or _yes_.

Naruto breaks the silence digging up a dry cough out of his throat. He puts down whatever he has in his hands and turns around, back against the counter, hands as well, trying to keep this as businesslike as possible. Because this was business, right? It was a deal. Money changed hands and everything. It may not have seemed like it at the time, when he was drunk on fifty-dollar kisses, but it sure as hell did when they were finished.

God he feels awful.

'I think you should go.' He says, his face stern, determined and damn it, he **will **not _plead_.

Sasuke stops his unconscious approach, mind still befuddled with the dim impressions of that forgotten dream. Someone's heat in his arms.

'What?'

'Yeah, I mean, I have to work tomorrow. I get up at seven.'

Sasuke dumbstruck and speechless is having the most intense inner monologue. He wonders whether Naruto knows that he didn't really mean it, the money, that is. He did mean the rest. He just didn't think the whole money thing was that big of deal. He was flirting, trying to get what he wants. He wasn't really _paying_. Oh, god, now he really feels horrible, and scared. He opens his mouth to try and talk it right again, but Naruto interrupts him.

'I still have stuff to do.'

Naruto knows that was cruel. But what was that guy thinking? All summer long he's been telling him that no, really, he doesn't need a fuckbuddy, certainly not one who offers to pays him. What he needs is to get working, he needs a way out, money, a life, a chance. Getting people involved, anybody, will only make things complicated. Like they are now. Naruto could shoot himself. How could have been so stupid? He always prised himself on the fact that even though he did not grow up in the most descent of environments he had always preserved his sense of dignity; and now because some prissy rich boy looks him deep in the eye he's willing to throw all that away!

He blushes with shame and bends his head, walks to the door and opens it. He just wants to be left alone now, alone with his misery and the fact that he can't take it back. Not the act, not the words. He stands back, silent and uncompromising like a sentinel. The raging of the storm is only a ripple on the surface. _Oh, if you only knew_.

Sasuke moves like ghost. Utterly defeated and very uncomfortable in the role of victim he wonders how it could have meant so little to Naruto; and then it hits him, that he was stony and indifferent like that too, once. He slept around because he felt like it. Because he needed release, because he needed something. He never touched another human being out of love. Lust though, lust he knew everything about. He still does, when he looks back over his shoulder one last time and sees that shape, that form, so tempting and warm. A promise of comfort and something soulful in what feels like an ocean solitude.

When he finally comes home there's no part of him that doesn't crave to be drunk and numb. He longs for that state between dream and sleep, in which everything is softer and bland. He unlocks the front door. It's after ten. His parents won't be home. They have their own, separate, lives.

He drifts through the rooms that he doesn't really know. The living room nobody ever uses. He knows the hallways better, and doors. Doors he used to put his ear against when he was little and his parents had company they didn't want him to meet. Or, a couple of years later, when he was growing taller and more awkward with every year, when he sat in the hallways waiting for **him **to pass by and lower himself to flick his finger against his head. Which he never does anymore. Fucker.

Then he sees that the living room is, for once, occupied and that the shadow is his brother. He stops and stares. Itachi, a black shirt open over his chest. The undulating landscape of his stomach bare for Sasuke to look at.

'Good evening. Out with some friends?'

Sasuke thinks that maybe he means that in a bad, mocking way, but Itachi's hard to read. He's practically forgotten all about Sai and the incident. It turned out to be completely meaningless anyway. Sai has nothing to do with him fucking up, he did that all on his own.

'What's wrong?'

Sasuke hesitates. In the shadows of the room he can't see everything, and Itachi never usually addresses him like this. Their relation is a one-way street. Sasuke waits and begs until he starts to feel sick about himself, and then maybe Itachi lets him in, toys with his mind some more, and gives him what he wants finally, which always turns out to taste more bitter than sweet. Which doesn't help him always craving it again in the mornings.

Sasuke's downcast eyes hide the turmoil and the grief that is plain on his face. He longs to tell someone, but to tell Itachi would be grotesque. He just shakes his head instead and then, tentatively, prepares to leave the room, afraid that Itachi might stop him. But he doesn't. So Sasuke reaches the cold comforts of his room alone and seemingly unharmed (except for his heart of course). He peels off his clothes, drops them on the ground and hides under the covers, praying for sleep, though doubtful of its proximity.

Not much later the door opens. Sasuke turns on his side so that he doesn't have to look him in the eye.

'Not tonight.' He whispers. 'I don't feel like it.'

Then he feels a body sit down on the bed next to his and he knows that Itachi is watching him, persistent. He feels him take his arm, turn him over on his back, he closes his eyes now, determined to keep feigning sleep as long as he possibly can, to keep that darkness behind his lids. Then he feels something cold and plastic being tied around his arm. For a second he thinks that Itachi might be tying him to the bed, and it surprises him that he doesn't really care. He wouldn't be able to fight him off. He's better at this: surrender, submission. It's all he's ever been good at.

No one's tying him down though and when something cold dabs at the skin inside his arm, the crook inside the elbow, he has to open his eyes to look. Itachi's not more than a shadow looming over him, but he meets his eyes with his own and smiles. He is the parody of a kind nurse, disinfecting the skin of his arm. Then something metallic flashes in the dark and Sasuke flinches. It's a syringe. He tries to sit up. Itachi holds him down.

'What are you doing?'

'It'll make you feel good.' Itachi answers calmly and resumes his business with Sasuke's arm.

'No wait…' Sasuke starts but his gaze is transfixed on the point where Itachi holds the needle to his skin.

He turns his head now and looks at him with those tombstone eyes.

'Do you want to make the pain stop?' He asks him, more serious it seems than he's ever been before.

Sasuke's voice fails. Yes, of course he wants to make the shit stop. The question is what does Itachi know, and why, for god's sake, this sudden burst of interest in what makes his little brother tick? Sasuke slows his breath. His eyes are still locked. Is this an answer? The nod he finally gives is almost invisible.

Then Itachi breaks his skin with the needle and injects whatever drug was in the syringe. He injects all of it and then slowly pulls the needle out. He stays on the bed, cleans up and looks at his little brother again. If this gardener boy was the source of his trouble, he is going to do something about that. Nobody gets to him like this. Nobody but him. He smiles as he leaves, pulls the door closed behind him while Sasuke's life bursts into vivid dream.

Naruto walks through the humid night pressing down on him like someone's hands. He feels heavy and warm and sticky all over, but more than that, he feels wronged. There's an anger in his belly, a fierce reaction to the injustice done to him. It threatens to grow and consume any reason, any doubt.

Right now it just drowns out the fear. He's walking in territories he knows all to well, but would rather not. Downtown where Boss O. waves the sceptre, sits on the thrown, carries the whip. The sky above is layered, there's the sick glow from the lanterns and city lights, and above that, an inky darkness. There are some brothels, strip joints and many seedy bars, but only one club, Club O, the one at the end of his path. If Naruto hadn't been feeling so very determined, he would have been looking around anxiously. It's not unusual getting robbed here, or worse. People are capable of anything it seems. They are their own worst enemies.

However, Naruto's crusading for a noble cause. He intends to confront O. and make a deal. He can't just lay there and let people walk all over him, no matter how much power they have, no matter how dangerous they can become. He has principles, and Dammit, he has pride. An image of pride which he's willing to uphold more than ever now, since that evening in bed with Sasuke. Naruto blushes at the memory. How can anybody have that much control over him? He is his own master right? No slave to his instinct.

Club O. looks dark and glamorous from the outside. It sticks out from all the red-illumined open doors, out which seep the sounds of drunks and sports programs. Club O. is all black and steel, and inside, behind the huge smartly dressed doorman, there's silver and black carpet.

Naruto hesitantly approaches the man whose been looking at him ever since he turned round the corner. He tentatively passes the man, and it's desperately obvious he doesn't belong. However, no calls him. There's no big, muscled arm blocking his path. Naruto feels like entering some kind of cave, one hiding a horrible dragon. Getting in is no worry, getting out again will be the trick.

Inside the music is slow but loud and thumping. The light flashes white, red and green. The dance floor is small, but long and oval-shaped. Not many people are dancing. Two girls are, barely his age, but it's obvious they're not dancing for the fun of it, as they keep on throwing sultry glances at the man sitting on a black sofa, smoking a long cigarette. Naruto avoids them and keeps to the sides. He's been here before when he was little, but that was in the day and he had his father's broad shoulders to hide behind. He doesn't ever go to clubs. He hasn't got the money, the appropriate friends, the time…

The men at the bar eye him strangely. One of them frowns and throws his drink back. Naruto increases his speed, scared that the man will get up and that it will be the beginning of an argument which will no doubt keep him from ever doing what he came for.

He walks towards the VIP-lounge, which is separated by a big, long rice-paper screen. Through it he can see lights and shadows and moving limbs. He takes a big breath and pokes his head around the screen. There's no bouncer here and the music is somewhat dulled. The song changed to something slower, more sensual. Through the smoke and darkness Naruto recognises the man.

Orochimaru: pale as a ghost, impossibly tall and lanky, dressed in the habitual black he looks like a mortician with a coke addiction than a landlord. His mouth is moving slowly. He's talking with some other people occupying his booth, but his eyes are on the stage. Naruto follows their glance and it takes him more than a few seconds to realise that it's Anko. The sweet girl who was fourteen when he was nine and who babysat him that last fatal summer his father was working so hard… Anko who is now, dressed in nothing but a white and silver thong, curving her body around pole, swaying her hips to the beat of the music. Naruto gets instantly very red, warm and angry.

She filled out since last he saw her. He remembers her as an especially awkward girl, a little square in the hips, with nothing to compensate for it in the front. She's really rather gorgeous now. Fine, well-shaped legs supporting an especially well proportioned torso. Her breasts are modest and round. She's very pale in the white light though, and sweat has dampened her black hair at the tips.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a hand secures itself around his arm and everyone is looking at him, including Orochimaru with those sickly colourless eyes of his and that dreaded smile around his lips. The arm roughly drags him out in front of the men, far too exposed and Orochimaru breaks the tension.

'How nice of you to drop by. Gentlemen this is Uzumaki Naruto, his father was a business associate of mine, but he was taken from us far too early. Nevertheless, we stayed good friends right Naruto.'

The other men inspect him rather indifferently and one of them turns around and huffs something resentful. Orochimaru, ever and always in control and never bothered by other people's expectations, keeps his eyes on him and if possible, his smile broadens.

'You grew up very nice. Exactly like your father.'

Naruto devises this as the good moment to speak so he opens his mouth to at least try and get it over with but Orochimaru interrupts and claps in his hands. He makes eye contacts and before he knows it Naruto is dragged away again, lifted up in stage, where he freezes under the hot, bright lights which blind him momentarily.

Horrified he looks at Anko, who's finally realised that the company she received on stage is no else but the little boy she used to baby-sit. She stops dancing and squints her eyes in the bright light. 'Naruto?' She mouths. Then realisation hits her and the shame lights her up like fire and she turns red up to her ears. She moves awkwardly, takes a step back, insecure on the high black lace heels she's wearing, and after a moment's hesitation, covers up her breasts with her arms. She hides her eyes behind her fringe.

Orochimaru claps again and stands up, having completely forgotten about his guests now he laughs a nauseating laugh and approaches the stage.

'Well this is no good. I'm so sorry Naruto, Anko isn't usually this shy.' He glances at her and makes what he says sound like an insult.

Anko takes it like a physical blow to the gut and she bites her lip. Naruto can't bear to see her like this.

'I haven't come here to play around.' he starts, sounding more confident than he is, but that's the point. He has to bluff his way through this now, not just for himself, for Anko too. 'I came to talk to you. To tell you to stop breaking into my house.'

Orochimaru's smile closes and his shark's teeth are hidden behind bloodless lips once more. He's still smiling viciously though and after a long moment he waves his hand as a gesture for him t o get down. He walks away, heading for a innocuous black door, leaving the men shocked and indignant to enjoy the rest of their drinks. It's clear he wants Naruto to follow, who does, who can't muster up the guts to cast a last reassuring glance at Anko. After all, this is him bluffing.

Naruto follows Orochimaru to an office like room with a black, heavy desk and an empty bookcase against the wall. There's another door but it's closed. He stays on his feet while Orochimaru sits down in the only chair in the room. He folds his hands under his chin and looks him up and down slowly. Naruto doesn't know where to leave his hands so he let's his arms hang by his sides, all tensed and awkward. He'd like to be the one to talk first because he desperately needs to be in charge of the conversation. He remembers Orochimaru's particular talent to talk before being spoken to. To make it seem as if there's a conversation when really it's a monologue, a cat playing with a mouse.

'You were in my house two days ago.' Naruto says, and he's too nervous and too anxious to keep this civilised so the words come out a little hostile.

'When is it ever wrong for a someone to check up on a friends son.'

Naruto tries not to scowl at the hypocrisy. Orochimaru continues before he can interject a word.

'I made a promise to Minato. One I'm willing to keep. Do you know what he said to be when he died?'

'No.' Naruto whispers through clenched teeth. No, he did not know because he wasn't there. Because Minato was working with Orochimaru and had warned him to stay behind and, for god's sake, not intervene. He recalls the look in his eyes, blue like his but so very different. Fearless, comforting, proud. The image Orochimaru is now conjuring does even compare.

'He had gotten himself into trouble again. Was fighting again, drinking and god knows what else, even though I warned him against it. I even proposed to get him treated, for your sake, Naruto. But he didn't even think of you that night. He just went out and got his hit.' Orochimaru pauses, leans over and really looks into his eyes, a sneer on his face, cleverly disguised as concern.

'You know I could count the scars on the inside of his arm when I found him.'

Naruto blinks the tears out of his eyes and tries to focus on the stained floor. Whatever Orochimaru thinks he knew of Minato Uzumaki is a lie. He knew him only as the yellow flash. The Yellow flash who was a notorious troublemaker, who drank and swore and dealt in illegal substances. The yellow flash who wasn't afraid to break bones to get what he wanted. _The yellow flash who is not my father,_ Naruto thinks.

'Anyway, what he said to me, was 'take care of my kid'. I guess he figured I owed him. He had that attitude, he thought the entire world owed him, like he was some sort of fucking saviour.' Orochimaru's face momentarily loses all its calm and he sneers.

'I didn't owe him shit. But I promised anyway. And I'm not one to break a promise. So yeah, I check up on you, and when I do, I provide myself with some compensation. After all, Minato left me with a fuckload of debt and I could hold you responsible for that. But I don't, because I don't think you'd be man enough to handle it, with your father's genes and all. But one day, I may decide you are, and when that day comes you better be ready, because I have a whole lot of people on my side, and last time I checked, you were all alone. Now I want you out of my sight. Kimimaro!'

Naruto finds his breath shallow and his skin hot like coals. He can't see straight with anger, but holding that anger back is fear and an horrendous doubt gnawing at his insides. Everything described by Orochimaru he knows. Although he knew the other sides to his dad, there's no denying what kind of person he could be. He unclenches his fists which are white and shivering now.

Kimimaro enters immediately through the other door, faithful lapdog, no doubt he's heard everything. Naruto can't move though. He's petrified. Kimimaro has to grab him by the arm, which he squeezes until it hurts, and shoves him into the other room. It's occupied by a snooker table, some cheap looking chairs, a naked light bulb hanging off the ceiling and an electric fan. Its buzzing and Naruto's rapid breathing are the only sounds in the room.

Kimimaro starts forwards to grab his arm again but Naruto shrieks and moves out of the way.

'Don't touch me!' He growls, but his hands are in his hair and its pitiable really.

'Don't touch me you fucking traitor.' he continues but it would have sounded a great deal more convincing if his voice hadn't broken into a sob halfway through.

It's all coming back to him now. He should never have come. He needs to scream. His eyes find Kimimaro again, a statue of grey, cold, unfeeling menace.

'How could you have let him done that to Anko? She was our friend!' he rasps, pacing the room, sobbing.

'She's in pain, ok? How could you have let it come to that?'

Kimimaro doesn't say thing but, and maybe Naruto is imagining this, there is something accusatory in his eyes. Why weren't you there to help her? They seem to say. Naruto heaves for breath, ready for another burst of insults.

'You're his lapdog now. You gave in. You just succumbed. Fucking coward!'

Naruto takes a step forward and shakes his head. How come this kind of shit always seems to happen to the same people? Why does it always go around in vicious circles, why can he never, just be left alone? Then the shit continues and a hand shoots out steadily securing itself around his neck, choking him. Naruto, shocked and caught off guard, is dumped back into reality by the sudden pain in his neck and the throbbing in his temples.

He growls and claws at the hand, but with every passing second he grows more aware of the fact that those fingers won't budge. They're like stone and his fighting is futile. He makes a funny noise in the back of his throat and closes his eyes against the sudden burst of colour that the accompanies the pain. He's losing all awareness of surrounding and finds himself being thrown against the snooker-table. The wood hits him in the back and for a moment his throat is freed. He gasps with sudden impact, but has no chance to recover, because Kimimaro is right behind him. Turning him over on the table's surface, a black silhouette in the bleary light of the bulb. Naruto's cheek is grinding against the rough felt and tears erupt from behind his eyes.

Then, meticulously, pain shifts from neck and back to his shoulder, where Kimimaro has twisted his arm. And this is where the horrible realisation shoots in. For a moment, Naruto wants to laugh. Boys don't get raped, that's what he always thought, but they do, they can. Kimimaro, ex-childhood friend and rookie gangster is going to have his way with him in this forgotten little backroom where no one who cares will be able to hear him scream.

Naruto's growling turns to crying as he starts to beg for him to stop. The humiliation is worse than any pain that could be done to him. Kimimaro unbuckles his belt and uses it to fasten Naruto's elbow behind his back, so that he lies in complete, powerless agony. It's too painful to twitch, it's too painful to talk. Naruto closes his eyes tightly, listens to his breath racing and his heart breaking out of his chest onto the green felt of the table.

There are hands on the small of his back now, on his buttocks, fumbling with the edge of his trousers. One last sob breaks through until he shuts down, holds it in and prays to fall unconscious. Suddenly everything stops, not because the darkness claims him, but because of the door opening and Orochimaru's voice calling out:

'I'm not quite sure he's entirely your type, Kimimaro.'

Then it's quiet still for a long time and Kimimaro doesn't move.

'Let him go.' This is obviously an order now, venom from the lips of boss O.

Kimimaru reluctantly pulls back, unties the belt with a single flick of his hand and leaves sparing no glances. Naruto recovers, his head still bent over the table, one cheek red and raw where it was pressed to the felt, the other pallid. He'd rather die than face him now, boss O, no doubt still in the doorway, enjoying every bit of his victory. So he freezes, keeps his back on him, and waits until he hears him leave.

After that he steals away, as quietly and as carefully as he can, with no speck of hope left in his molested body. With black bruises on his soul and a shiver in his limbs. Cold to the bone. All to aware of where he failed. Where he lacked strength. With no thoughts in his head but those of defeat and how Kimimaro could have had him, easy like that, bent over the table like fucking prize.

**Review pls. **


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